An Unkindness of Wizards
by Hplover4ever3
Summary: !AU! Harry and his parents (almost) defeated the dark lord that night, and ever since, they've been the Wizarding world's saviours. See how this affects Harry when he comes to Hogwarts and is at the height of cool. But for Draco, life has been terribly difficult until now. Follow the adventures of both boys as they struggle to coexist and (later) work together.
1. As it turns out

**Author's Note:** **Hey readers! This story is my first attempt at writing in the alternate universe. It will follow the lives of Harry and Draco as they attend Hogwarts. I will write this story all the way up to fifth year. Hope you enjoy! (And yes, it's meant to parallel the lives of the Marauders). Also, this first chapter is just introductory so of course it's all paragraphs, no dialogues. Chapter two is where story-mode really begins. This is just background information as to what** _ **really**_ **happened all those years ago.**

 **Disclaimer:** **Harry Potter is J.K Rowling's property. Thanks!**

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CHAPTER 1: AS IT TURNS OUT...

On the night of Halloween, 1981, the wizarding world was sure to be doomed. Lord Voldemort was at the height of his power and headed for Godric's Hollow village to kill the boy who was prophesized to destroy him. Lily and James Potter, fearful for their son's life, did everything in their powers to protect their home from the evil wizard. But the Dark Lord was too strong for them. He let himself in anyway and set out to kill them. What he did not know, was that they were already one step ahead of him.

You see, just a few months before, Albus Dumbledore had called Lily and James into his office for a private chat. It appeared to be something top secret because he'd even ordered all the portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses out of his office so that they couldn't eavesdrop. Nervous, Lily and James listened to what he had to say. And boy, was it good that they had.

Dumbledore provided them with secret, essential information which he warned must not get out. He explained that there was no one else they could trust and so they were not to tell it even to their best friends. Swearing to keep it secret, Lily and James signed up for the mission of their lives. It was then that their quest for the destruction of Lord Voldemort began.

James began to secretly travel, looking for rare magical objects. He tracked down all the ones he could—which took several months to do—and brought them straight to Dumbledore's office where, together, they destroyed them. They were able to destroy all the objects Voldemort had ever created, with the exception of one which they were never able to find. James then took Dumbledore's advice and went into hiding with Lily and their newborn son.

When the Dark Lord showed up on Halloween night to kill them, he did not know that they'd been expecting him. He was ambushed completely and had no idea that they'd spent a good seven months before that night, hunting down his horcruxes and destroying them one by one with Dumbledore. Voldemort was shocked and therefore careless. It took all the strength and might that they could muster, but Lily and James managed to put him off. It wasn't until their son Harry intervened, that things really started to happen.

You see, the children of witches and wizards were not supposed to show accidental magic until much later in their toddler years. Harry's accidental magic that night must have been caused by an intense force that was foreign to both James and Lily, combined with his emotions and fear of the big bad man who'd come to kill him. Whatever the reason, his magic was extremely powerful. Combined with that of James' and Lily's, the three were able to destroy Voldemort completely, leaving nothing but a shred of his black cloak and a snapped wand. It was true that because one horcrux still remained, Voldemort would possibly be able to come back one day. But for now, the wizarding world was safe and free. Indeed, the 31st of October, 1981, was a day no one would ever forget.

And so it was that after this extraordinary event, the Potters became prodigies in the wizarding world. James was promoted to head of the auror office at the ministry, where he worked with fellow co-worker and friend Arthur Weasley. Lily was offered many jobs but preferred to stay at home with Harry. And Harry...he came to be known all over the wizarding world as the Boy Who Conquered. Books were being written about him. Interviews were requested of James and Lily by so many newspapers. On Dumbledore's orders, they occasionally provided some details but mainly kept quiet and peaceful in their little home at Godric's Hollow (which was of course protected by Dumbledore's powerful enchantments).

Their friend Sirius Black served as Harry's Godfather and visited them almost every single week until he finally decided to move back to Great Britain (which he'd left just to get away from his Death Eater family) just to be with them. He now lived above a shop in Hogsmeade Village and worked part-time as a Quidditch referee for a famous team. He was definitely living the bachelor life and having a really good time. But he also loved Harry to death and would do anything for that little boy.

Their other friend, Remus Lupin, was hired by Dumbledore for various teaching positions within Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (of which Dumbledore was headmaster). Remus loved his job very much and as a result, the students loved him. He would go on to take the post of Defense against the Dark Arts teacher during Harry's first year at Hogwarts. However, things got complicated at the full moon each month because Remus was a werewolf. And so, during some of his worst cycles, he would need a substitute teacher to take over his classes. This was where Severus Snape came into play.

Severus Snape was one of many who absolutely loathed the Potters. A former Death Eater, he occupied the position of Potions Master at Hogwarts. Back in the war, he'd served Lord Voldemort faithfully. However, he had a change of heart near the end of the war and came to Dumbledore for help. He was hired at Hogwarts to teach so that Dumbledore could keep an eye on him. He served as a spy for Dumbledore and shared all of Voldemort's secrets with him. But when Voldemort was killed and Snape was no longer required to serve as spy, Dumbledore did not let him go. In fact, he ordered him to stay at Hogwarts.

You see, Snape was many things. A half-blood raised in an unstable home, a very skilled wizard and a learned student himself, and a brave and determined man. He was also a heartbroken man, and this was because of Lily Potter. They'd been childhood friends but had grown apart in their Hogwarts years. During the war, being on opposite sides made it hard for them to stay in touch and so after a while, they stopped talking completely. It was only after the allegedly fatal night that Snape actually came by to see her. He was then kicked out by James and told to never return.

Lily and Snape did not continue their friendship. But that did not mean that they'd forgotten it. Lily was still very sad about it sometimes but never confided this in James, who was not understanding of it at all. Snape on the other hand, thought about Lily all the time. He wished that he could have been different for her. Because she'd not chosen him, he hated James with all his guts and would come to hate Harry just as much. It was a complicated situation that would not likely be resolved anytime soon.

Because Harry and his parents were the favourite family of the wizarding world, you could say that Harry had a pretty decent childhood. His parents had a fortune and so money was never a problem. His dad was really into Quidditch so he kept Harry practicing (and soon, Harry became quite skillful indeed). His mother valued smarts and so she kept Harry reading. And Sirius was his favourite person in the whole world and so they spent as much time together as they possibly could. Harry also liked Lupin who visited occasionally, but was not nearly as close with him as he was with Sirius. Together, they made the perfect family for the Boy Who Conquered.

However, not everyone was living the good life. The Longbottoms, who were long-time friends of the Potters, had suffered greatly in the war. Alice and Frank endured the cruciatus curse not long after Voldemort's downfall, at the hands of his most trusted Death Eaters. They were tortured beyond grief and were now forced to reside permanently at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Their son, Neville (who was Harry's age), was therefore raised by Frank's mother, who was not a very pleasant woman.

Thankfully, Frank and Alice had made James and Lily Neville's godparents and so they brought him over to their house as much as they possibly could. He and Harry therefore grew up seeing a lot of each other and were fairly good friends.

It seemed that life was finally good for the witches and wizards of Great Britain. They were freed from the Dark Lord whom they'd feared for the longest time. Muggle-borns were no longer in danger and could live freely. And all who'd fought on the rightful side of the war were well rewarded now and living quite comfortably. The other side however, not so much.

The many Death Eaters who'd committed serious crimes were put away and locked up in Azkaban Prison. This included the Lestranges, Crouch, Regulus Black, and many more of Voldemort's closest followers. Peter Pettigrew, who'd been a friend of the Potters, had betrayed their hiding location to Voldemort and so he was locked up too. The Malfoys however, were living quite differently.

Lucius Malfoy had managed to convince many that they'd been cursed by Voldemort into participating in his regime. As a result, they were not arrested or tried for any of their alleged crimes. However, that did not mean that they weren't shunned. In fact, the majority of the wizarding world hated the Malfoys and saw them for what they really were...traitors. This meant that Lucius could not find decent work to support his wife and son. They'd lost all their family heirlooms to the ministry and were forced to survive on the few galleons that Narcissa Malfoy had inherited back when she was a Black.

The hardened living situation sure caused many arguments between the Malfoys, all of which dragged young Draco down as well. He was forced to live among his fighting parents with no one but long-time friend Severus Snape to look up to. Draco spent most of his childhood being ordered around by his mother, dodging his father on his drunken nights, and reading as many books as he possibly could. He never had any friends and could not wait to go to Hogwarts and get away from it all.

It is no question that the lives of these witches and wizards were altered drastically at the downfall of the Dark Lord. Who knows what would have happened if he'd actually survived and the Potters had not? Perhaps, Harry would not have been so lucky as a child, and perhaps Draco would have been slightly luckier. But there is no doubt in that things would not be the same.

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 **This was just a backstory chapter, explaining some essential things. The next chapter is where the story really begins.**

 **Please review. Thanks!**


	2. Disrupted Daily Life

**Author's Note: This chapter is where it all begins. The first half is Harry's perspective. The second half is Draco's. It takes place summer before their first year at Hogwarts. Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: Harry Potter is J.K Rowling's property. Thanks!**

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CHAPTER 2: DISRUPTED DAILY LIFE

* * *

 _Harry_

* * *

"Booooys! Breakfast!"

Harry opened his eyes and blinked. His eyes were getting watery from the dust of his messy room. His muscles weren't working this morning. His brain was not thinking.

"Boooys!"

Harry lifted his head gently and looked over to where his snowy white owl sat perched up in her cage.

"Annoying, right Hedwig?" he muttered.

Hedwig hooted softly.

Harry grabbed his pillow, threw it over his head, and continued the peaceful sleep that had taken over him for a good portion of the night.

"Boys!"

Harry let out a loud grunt. He should not have played cards with Sirius late last night. His father was probably sleeping in as well. There were three knocks to the door that Harry knew came from his mother. He jumped up, pulled on the round glasses that were resting on the bedside table, and popped open _Hogwarts: A History_ , just as Lily Potter opened the bedroom door.

"Rise and shine!" she said, brightly, her red hair firing up in the shimmering sunlight that emitted through the window.

"Morning, mum," said Harry, smiling.

"Did you just wake up?" said Lily.

Harry glanced at the clock on the wall that read 8 in the morning. The woman sure was an early riser.

"No," he lied. "I've been up for hours."

"Oh yeah?" said Lily, moving closer into the room. "What have you been doing?"

"Just catching up on my reading," said Harry, gesturing to the book in his lap.

"I thought you already finished that one," said Lily, curiously, as she went over to pet Hedwig. "You never go anywhere without it."

"I'm reading it for the second time, mum," said Harry, grinning crookedly. "I want to know everything there is to know about the place."

Lily smiled.

"I understand completely. But come on, breakfast is waiting. Oh, and you really should clean this room up a bit, Harry."

"Coming," said Harry.

As soon as Lily was out of the room, Harry shoved the book from his lap and it fell with a light thud on the carpet floor. He yawned and stretched and slowly made his way over to the window. His vision was blinded by the sun for a minute or two, but then it settled back into place. Godric's Hollow sure was a beautiful village, especially during sunrise. The villagers were already up and running, muttering greetings to each other as they passed. The owls were already delivering their mail. It was as bright and sunny a day as it had been yesterday.

Feeling pleased, Harry put on his robes and headed downstairs, but not before giving Hedwig a light kiss. His father, James, was already at the kitchen table, reading that morning's copy of the _Daily Prophet_. He looked up as Harry entered the room and smiled broadly.

"Morning, son."

"Hi dad," said Harry as he took a seat across from him.

Lily danced her way over to the table with a frying pan containing eggs and sausages. She gave Harry a generous helping as he poured himself pumpkin juice.

"Why so happy, mum?" he asked, grinning again.

"Oh, it's nothing," said Lily, smartly, as she set the pan back in its place and took a seat.

"Aha," said Harry, who did not believe her for a second.

Nevertheless, he grabbed the fork and began to eat. James smirked but did not look up from his paper.

"Any day now," said Lily in a sing-song voice.

"Muuum," said Harry. "Come on, this is silly. You're more psyched about it than I am!"

"You're not psyched?" said James, finally looking up from the paper.

"Course I am," said Harry. "But Mum's ecstatic!"

"Oh I'm sorry, but it's just so exciting!" said Lily.

Again, James shook his head, laughing.

"Hey mum," said Harry, as he reached for the jam and began to spread it on his toast. "Just out of curiosity, what would you do if I _didn't_ get a letter?"

"I'd owl Professor Dumbledore right away," said Lily, defiantly.

This got a laugh out of James and Harry's grin widened.

"Okay kids, I've got to be off," said James as he folded up the newspaper, kissed Lily on the cheek, and stood up from the table.

"Hey wait up, dad, I've just got to finish eating," said Harry, who sped up the process at once.

"Ah no, son, you stay home today. Help your mother out in the garden."

Harry looked at his father with disbelief.

"You said I could come!"

"Yeah I know, kiddo, but it's not going to be interesting for you this time...just a bunch of old wizards babbling about the Wizengamot. You're better off here, trust me."

"No, I'm not," said Harry, quickly. "Come on, dad, please let me come."

For a fraction of a second, James exchanged a look with Lily that Harry did not quite understand. Then, he sighed and motioned for Harry to sit next to him on the couch.

"Listen, son," said James, "Your mother and I went down to the ministry the other day and...well, with you turning eleven this year...people are expecting you at Hogwarts."

"And?" said Harry, who did not understand at all.

"And," continued Lily, "We couldn't help but notice the...extra amount of attention they're paying you, Harry."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you're all the rage now," said James. "People are remembering that night with Voldemort more now than ever before."

"And we think this is because you're starting at Hogwarts this year," said Lily, and James nodded.

"I...had no idea," said Harry.

"Yeah, so you're more famous now than you've ever been," said James.

"How famous exactly?" said Harry. "I'm not just the Boy Who Conquered anymore?"

"Well," said Lily, slowly, "You're more than that now...they've...they've plastered your name on Quidditch supplies down in Diagon Alley."

"They have?!" exclaimed Harry.

"And you have your own brand of robes," said James.

"I do?!" exclaimed Harry.

"Yes, it's crazy, isn't it?" said Lily. "And that's why we want to just keep you away from that as much as we can...for now. You're still so young and it's better you be away from it all at least until you start at Hogwarts."

"You understand, don't you, son?" said James.

Harry sadly agreed and returned to his breakfast as James waved goodbye to the pair of them and disappeared behind the emerald green flames of the living room fireplace. As soon as he was gone, Lily turned to Harry, smiling.

"So I was thinking," she began, "The garden's done. The house is clean. There's nothing really for us to do here. Why not, say, visit Little Whinging and go see your aunt and cousin?"

"Yeah, alright!" said Harry, enthusiastically.

There were many things he loved about his life; the fact that he had the most amazing, coolest Godfather in the universe, his many wonderful brooms from his father, his owl Hedwig...but there was nothing Harry loved more than the fact that his cousin Dudley Dursley was a muggle, and Harry, who had been practicing accidental magic for a good few years now, always marveled at the look on Dudley's face when he glimpsed something that ought to be "impossible".

"I thought you might like to do that," said Lily, with another smile. "Come on, finish up and go get ready. We'll apparate there."

"Kay."

Harry gobbled down the rest of his breakfast at godspeed and hurried up the stairs to change into his muggle clothes. He gently patted Hedwig on the way out and then joined his mother in the living room.

"Ready?" she said, placing her wand on the inside pocket of her jacket.

"Yep," said Harry, who couldn't take his eyes off of it.

"Alright, let me just check that I turned off the stove," said Lily, who walked over to the kitchen and looked around, muttering quietly to herself. "Alright, let's do it."

"Mum," interrupted Harry. Lily stared at him. "W-when can I get one of those?"

He pointed at the wand she'd just pocketed and then met her eyes.

"Oh sweetheart, we talked about this," she said, kindly. "As soon as you get your Hogwarts letter, we'll go down to Diagon Alley to get all your school stuff—yes, that includes a wand."

"But," said Harry, as Lily grabbed a hold of his arm and apparated to an alleyway in Little Whinging, Surrey. They landed quite better than they had last time. Harry was becoming more and more comfortable with apparition.

"So what happens if I really don't get my letter?" he continued as they headed out of the alleyway and began to walk the muggle streets together, holding hands.

"I don't see any reason why you shouldn't," replied Lily, who was guiding the way to her sister's house in the suburbs. "But it's like I said; if you don't get the letter, we'll speak with Professor Dumbledore."

"You promise, mum?"

"I promise."

Satisfied, Harry proceeded to question her about Hogwarts as they made their way over to Privet Drive. They stopped in front of house number 4 and stared at it for a couple of long seconds. Lily was obviously as nervous about this meeting as she had been about the last.

"Come on, mum, it's okay," Harry assured her, and he began to pull her with him to the front steps.

Ignoring Lily's quickened heartbeat—which he was sure he could hear from a mile away—Harry rang the doorbell and the two waited.

The door opened after a good minute and the woman who opened it went completely white at the sight of Harry and Lily standing on the front porch.

"Hi Tuney," said Lily, kindly.

"Hello," said Petunia Dursley.

* * *

Harry held the steaming cup of tea in his hand and silently looked around. It was the dullest room he'd ever been in. The walls were covered in pink wallpaper with grey stripes and the couches were an ugly brown. Everything was aligned perfectly—just the way darling Aunt Petunia liked it. Harry sipped some of the tea and held back a cough. It was truly disgusting.

"I like the new renovations," said Lily after a long silence. "They really compliment the place."

"Thank you," said Petunia, determinedly.

Her eyes lingered over to Harry for a split second before they landed back on Lily. It was quiet again, and then all three of them raised their teacups and drank.

"S-so, how have you been?" Lily asked, finally.

"Fine," answered Petunia.

"A-and Dudley?"

"He's fine too."

"Good, good," said Lily, nodding. She took a nervous sip from her tea and then set the cup back down because her hand was shaking too much. "W-where is Vernon?"

"At work," said Petunia, coldly. "Don't you lot work on weekdays?"

"Sure we do," said Lily. "James is at work now too."

"Splendid," said Petunia, even more coldly.

"Is Dudley gonna join us soon?" Harry asked her.

"No," she said, boldly, without even looking at him. "Dudley is at his piano lesson. He won't be back until late evening, after you have gone."

"He's taking _piano?!_ " laughed Harry, who then stopped just as quickly at the kick of Lily's leg.

Petunia glared at him.

"So Tuney," said Lily, brightly, "Have you given any more thought as to what you want to do with mum's old things? She'd have wanted you to keep them, of course, but I understand if you want to give them away."

"I'll do what I think shall be done, thank you," said Petunia, who leaned back on the couch and crossed her arms defiantly.

"Well, if you need any help moving any stuff, I'm sure James and Sirius would be happy to—"

"Lily, why are you here?"

"W-what?"

"Why—are—you—here?"

"I came to visit you, Tuney," said Lily, quietly.

"Why?" said Petunia, shrugging.

"Cause she wants to?'" said Harry, angrily.

Petunia glared at him.

"How dare you—?"

"What he means to say," said Lily, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder but still smiling sweetly at her sister, "Is that it's been a few months since we've seen each other. I just thought a visit was in order."

"Well you thought wrong!" said Petunia. "Don't you get it, Lily? I don't want you here! We are two completely different people. We lead completely different lives. I'd prefer that you kept your strangeness out of my home, thank you very much, and stick to letter writing, alright?!"

Lily's eyes had watered at these words and she stared at her sister with complete and utter disbelief.

"Why can't you let go of the past, Tuney?" said Lily, with a deep sigh. "I have."

"Easy for you," said Petunia. "You can make your problems go away easily with the wave of a magic stick. The rest of us don't have it like that. We actually have to work at honest jobs to make a living."

"We do that too!" exclaimed Lily, slightly angrily now. "Petunia, what is it you think I can do, wave my wand and make a pile of gold appear out of nowhere? It doesn't work like that!"

"You know what, it doesn't matter because I could care less about your...your... _strangeness_ ," said Petunia.

Harry jumped to his feet, pulling Lily with him.

"We're sorry to be such strange relatives, dear aunt," he said, coldly.

He stopped at the door again and turned to Petunia.

"Oh and by the way," he said, and she met his eyes as he did, "Your tea is disgusting."

* * *

"Well what did you go over there for?" said James, placing a comforting arm around Lily who tried to keep a brave smile as he sat next to her on the couch. "Did you expect any less from her?"

"Honestly, yeah!" said Lily. "I thought that after all these years, she'd changed."

"You have too much faith in people, mum," said Harry, simply, as he pushed his knight a few squares on the chessboard.

"The kid's right, Lils," said Sirius, who let out a bark-like laugh as his bishop crushed Harry's knight. "It's always been your greatest strength and flaw."

"Well, it's one of the many reasons why I fell in love with you," said James, giving his wife a light kiss.

"That's sweet," she said, "But it still doesn't change the fact that my sister hates me."

"Look, you've done all you could to mend the relationship," said James, "You've done your part. Now it's her turn to do hers. And if she chooses not to, then it's time to move on."

While they continued their conversation, Harry concentrated hard on where to move his bishop next.

"So how've you been, son?" said Sirius.

"You mean since last time you visited...last night?" said Harry, with a smirk.

Sirius grinned.

"Hey, did you hear I'm more famous now than just the Boy Who Conquered?"

"Yep, heard about that," said Sirius. "You're on Quidditch supplies now. That's wicked."

"Sure is," laughed Harry.

"The ladies will adore you, believe you me," said Sirius.

Harry kicked him playfully but couldn't suppress a grin.

"You're going to try out for Quidditch, aren't you?"

"Yeah, but first-years never make the house teams," said Harry, grimly.

"You've already broken wizarding history, Boy Who Conquered," said Sirius, with a smirk.

Harry grinned.

"I'm sure you'll be breaking many records at Hogwarts."

"Keep saying that and I'll never get the letter," said Harry. "You're all so excited for it and I haven't even gotten acceptance!"

"You will, son!" said Sirius. "It's nothing to worry about. Hogwarts can't wait to have you."

Again, Harry smiled.

"You're right," Lily was telling James. "You're right. Of course you're right."

"It'll be fine," said James, reassuringly.

"Yeah, I mean look at me and Reg," said Sirius, pushing a pawn one space up. "We became each other's worst enemies when he was only sixteen. I tried over and over again to mend the relationship but he never helped me out. And then he was locked up and nothing I could do."

"That doesn't help, Sirius," said Lily, letting out a nervous laugh.

"Bet this will," said Harry, who instructed his queen to crush Sirius' bishop, resulting in a checkmate.

"Yeah!" cried James, who sprung to his feet, picked up Harry, and carried him round the room in victory.

Sirius growled.

"Look!" cried Lily, causing the boys to stop shouting.

Out of instinct, James threw Harry on the couch and pulled out his wand, ready to attack. But Lily only smiled and pointed at the window. James frowned, let out a chuckle, and put away his wand. It was only a brown owl, and it looked like it was carrying an important letter.

Lily smiled at Harry and gestured for him to take the letter. Harry nervously got to his feet, approached the owl, and with shaking fingers, untied the letter from its leg. The owl hooted in response. Harry gulped nervously and turned the letter over in his hands. The Hogwarts crest was plastered on the front, the beautiful house colors shimmering in the light from the lanterns.

"Go on, son," said James.

Harry ripped open the letter and smiled as his eyes lingered over "Dear Mr. Harry James Potter."

"Told you you would get it," said Lily, and as Harry looked up at her, she winked.

* * *

 _Dra_ _co_

* * *

The black spider blinked its huge, round eyes as it continued to stare at Draco. It was refusing to back down and so Draco played along. Any minute now, the spider would sense the danger and smartly run away. But no, it was refusing to do so. Why so stubborn?

"Shoo!" cried Draco, waving his hands in front of him.

The spider did not move.

Draco sighed.

"You must be possessed," he told the spider. "You have to be. Any normal creature would run away by now."

The spider continued to stare at him.

"Suit yourself," said Draco, sinking into the rocking chair near the window. "I could do this all day. It's not like I have anything better to do."

He rocked back and forth in the chair for a couple of seconds and then glanced over at the bookcase in the corner of the room.

"You see all those books over there?" he told the spider. "I read 'em all. Yep. Each and every one. Some of them a couple of times."

The spider did not move but continued to blink at the blond-haired boy.

"What, you don't believe me?" said Draco, turning his eyes away from the bookcase and back to the spider. "I can recite any passage from any one of those books. You just name it, pal. You name it."

"Draaaaaco!" shrieked a woman from downstairs.

Draco jumped to his feet. He ran to the mirror, fixed his hair so that it lay perfectly upon his head, straightened up his vest, and ran down the stairs and to the kitchen.

"Yes, mother?" he said, nervously.

"The paper," she instructed.

"Y-yes, mother," replied Draco, and he turned around and exited the room.

It was pretty sunny out that day as he opened the front door. He got an incredible whiff of delightful summer air and could hear birds chirping up in the trees. It was the perfect day for a meadow visit. He grabbed the newspaper from the front porch and closed the door again. He placed the paper on the table nearest to Narcissa and turned to walk away.

"Freeze," she instructed.

Draco turned back to face her.

"Have you finished cleaning the shed yesterday?"

"N-no mother, it started to rain so you told me to go back inside or I'd catch a cold and then you would catch a cold and then father would catch a cold and then we'd starve to death because he wouldn't be able to go to work."

Narcissa looked up from her notebook and glared at her son.

"You are a bit of a smartass, aren't you?" she said, wickedly.

"N-no," said Draco, in a small voice.

"Let me spell it out for you," said Narcissa. "Go outside...and finish cleaning that shed!"

Draco nodded and ran out the door and to the back of the house. He grabbed the broom that lay on the front porch and began to sweep the floors in the dark, dusty old shed. No matter how many times he cleaned the bloody place, it was still never enough. And his father would only make another mess there again when he returned tonight, drunk as always.

After about ten minutes of cleaning, Draco snuck a peek out the window to see the house. Inside, his mother was done with the paper and was headed back upstairs to do some more housework. She wouldn't be done for at least another two hours. This meant Draco had the morning free to himself. He gently set the broom against the wall and ran out the back door. He ran across the hills and splashed through the pond until he reached his favourite place in the world: the meadow.

However, the meadow was not completely abandoned that day, for seated right in the center with her head bent over a thick book, was a girl. She had a fair amount of bushy brown hair and was wearing a sweet summer dress. Draco scowled. He was going to practice pretend Quidditch with his two hours. Frustrated, he turned to leave. Though, as he turned, a twig snapped underneath him and the girl looked up.

"Who are you?!" she called, in a slightly frightened voice.

Draco turned around to face her. He took a deep sigh and moved away from the shadows of the trees and into the sunlit meadow.

"Hi," he said.

"I know you," said the girl. "You're that boy that lives over in the little house, just beyond the hills."

"I might be," said Draco, placing his hands in his pockets. "Aren't you that girl that lives over in one of those rich rows of houses beyond the other hills?"

"I might be," she replied, raising her chin. "What are you doing here? Were you spying on me?"

"Yeah, like I have nothing better to do than spy on you," said Draco, scoffing. "Don't be so self-centered. I just came to hang out here. I didn't realise _you_ were here."

"Oh," said the girl. "Well, you'd better go then because this space is occupied today."

"No way!" said Draco, who was not feeling kind today. "Look, this is my only time to play, alright? So sorry to break it to you, but you're just going to have to share this space."

"Fine!" cried the girl, and she firmly turned her back on him and continued with her book.

Knowing perfectly well that he couldn't make a fool of himself and practice Quidditch in front of this girl, Draco casually seated himself beside her, with his back facing hers. He pulled at a bit of grass and began to magically twirl the pieces on his palm.

"But just so you know, I'm ignoring you," said the girl, stubbornly, a few seconds later.

"Fine by me," Draco muttered in response.

"I don't want anything to do with you," said the girl. "You're too rude for my liking."

"Whatever," said Draco.

"And I don't even care about your name either," continued the girl.

Draco sighed. He pulled at some more grass and made a few more circles in the air.

"The name's Draco," he said, after a long moment's silence.

"Hermione," said the girl, defiantly.

"Wicked name," said Draco.

Hermione ignored him and continued reading. Draco soon grew bored with the leaves and brushed them from his hands. He sighed, looked around the bright meadow, and then casually glanced at the book in Hermione's lap.

" _The Count of Monte Cristo_?" he read aloud.

Hermione pulled the book closer to herself but nodded.

"It's a good one," said Draco, mostly to himself. "I've read most of Alexandre Dumas' works. _The Black Tulip_ ; that's a wicked one. I think some of his earlier work is the best."

This surprised Hermione a great deal and she turned her body around completely to face Draco.

"Y-you've read Alexandre Dumas?" she said, quietly.

"Sure," said Draco, shrugging. "I've read pretty much everything there is out there to read."

"You have not," said Hermione.

"Yeah, I have," said Draco, who was growing frustrated. Who did this girl think she was? She acted like she owned the bloody world and knew everything about everyone.

"So you've read Shakespeare then?" said Hermione, smartly.

"Some," said Draco. "Macbeth, Hamlet, Julius Caesar, King Lear…"

"Have you read Tolkien's work?"

"If you're talking about the Lord of the Rings series, then yeah, I have," said Draco.

"That's amazing," said Hermione, who seemed too shocked for words.

"What's amazing?" said Draco, who stared at her as though she'd come from another planet, "That another human being could actually be interested in literature?"

"Well, yeah," said Hermione. "I mean...most kids our age don't read books that are that long. How old are you, anyway?"

"Eleven," said Draco, grunting.

"Me too," said Hermione. "Well, I'm turning eleven, anyway...this coming September."

"Cool," said Draco, who was already bored with this conversation. "Well, I'm off now."

He jumped to his feet and began to walk away.

"I thought you were going to stay here because it's your only time to play!" Hermione called after him, and she too, got to her feet.

"I changed my mind," Draco called back without looking at her.

He disappeared behind the shadows and turned back up at the house sooner than he'd hoped. Sighing heavily, he resumed his work in the shed.

By the time evening came around the corner, Draco was sweating from a day's hard work. At the popping sound of an apparition, he set the broom back against the wall and headed back into the house. His father and mother were in full argument mode already as Draco entered the kitchen.

"Oy, calm yourself down, woman!" cried Lucius Malfoy.

Narcissa shook her head violently at him as she waved her wand to move the dishes from the cupboard to the kitchen table.

"Why can't I use magic to clean the shed?!" exclaimed Draco. "You made me slave out there all day!"

"Quiet!" she yelled at him as she took a seat at the table.

Lucius grunted and also took a seat. Draco remained standing in the kitchen, his back leaning against a wall.

"If you don't sit down now, you're going to bed hungry tonight, understand?" growled Narcissa.

"Don't I every night?" muttered Draco.

Narcissa turned to look at him.

"What was that?"

"Nothing!"

"Then, sit!"

Draco closed his eyes, concentrated very hard on his emotions, trying desperately to calm himself. Then, he opened his eyes again and slowly made his way over to the table.

"Won't you at least think about it?" Narcissa told Lucius as she poured herself water.

"I _have_ thought about it," said Lucius. "And the answer is still no. There is nothing more to discuss."

"She's my _sister_ , Lucius!" exclaimed Narcissa. "Dammit, why can't you understand that?!"

"She shouldn't have gotten herself arrested then!" said Lucius, angrily.

"You weren't so far from getting arrested yourself either, if I remember correctly," Narcissa pointed out.

At this, Lucius raised his hand threateningly. Narcissa jumped up from the table, causing the salad bowl to fly to the floor with a crack, and stormed out of the room, muttering incoherently.

"What are _you_ staring at?" Lucius snapped as he met Draco's eyes.

"Nothing," mumbled Draco.

"Exactly!" cried Lucius. "You _are_ nothing! So make yourself useful for once in your life, and clean this bloody mess up!"

With a smack to the head, Draco jumped to his feet and cleaned up the shards of glass. He heard his father swear loudly as he reached for another bottle from the kitchen and stomped out of the room. When Draco was done cleaning, he sat back at the table and finished his dinner by himself, as he did every night.

* * *

"Why do they put you through that?" Hermione asked, as she peeled another banana and handed it to Draco.

He ate it quietly and then accepted another cookie from her.

"It doesn't seem like a good way to treat a child," Hermione continued. "If the authorities knew how they treated you, children's services would get involved for sure!"

"Not everyone's got parents like yours, Hermione," Draco pointed out, as he swallowed the last bit of banana and rejected more from Hermione.

The two were sitting in the sunny meadow again, enjoying the many snacks that Hermione always brought to their little meetings. Draco wasn't exactly sure why he continued this little friendship. Hermione was a muggle. She knew absolutely nothing about what his life was really like. But then again, she was helpful. She gave kind advice, she brought good food, and she was very knowledgable on the stack of books in Draco's room. They had lots to talk about and it never really hurt anyone before to have a friend—or in Draco's case, a first ever friend.

"I wish you weren't put through all that," Hermione said, sadly, after a moment's silence.

"Yeah, you and me both," Draco muttered. "Anyway, enough about my parents. They're not important enough to be talked about so much. How are you?"

"I'm good," said Hermione. "I took your advice and checked out Jane Austen."

"And?" said Draco, who was very pleased that she'd actually listened to him.

"And…you were right," said Hermione, who blushed slightly. "I like her very much."

"Knew you would," said Draco, grinning. "I've only read works by the Bronte sisters but I knew they hated Austen and she writes more lovey-dovey stuff...thought you'd be into it."

"Oh, I see," said Hermione. "Just because I'm a girl, right?"

"Right," said Draco.

Hermione kicked him playfully and he laughed. They put the food aside and lay down on the grass to gaze at the clouds. They were getting darker and darker by the minute. Draco was certainly not looking forward to the coming storm because it would mean he'd be stuck indoors for days. And, as much as he hated to admit it, he'd come to really look forward to his little meetings with Hermione over the last month or so. That is, until he got his letter from Hogwarts.

If Narcissa and Lucius were anything, it was very stubborn. They always had their way, in every single argument. They never forfeited. And they were both in agreement that Draco shall attend Hogwarts. Not that Draco was complaining, of course. Being away from them year-round, with the exception of the summer holidays, was a dream come true. But they did expect him to do well in school. They did mention he'd be getting his supplies second-hand, and they did laugh when he asked about Quidditch. So there was that.

But what Draco was not looking forward to, was explaining this to Hermione. She was probably under the impression that they'd attend the same muggle school in the fall and be good friends there. She'd told him about how the other kids always made fun of her for her strangeness and she'd never belonged anywhere. He felt sorry for her, but could definitely relate to that. But Draco had reasons. He was a wizard. Hermione was a just a peculiar muggle girl. Kind-hearted, but peculiar indeed.

That night, Draco ran back to the house just as the storm reached its height. The windows began to shake against the thunder and every now and then, the lights flickered. Narcissa kept having to mutter incantations to fix them every few minutes. Lucius was not home tonight and it was a question as to whether he would show up at all. Narcissa didn't seem to remember this however. Her mind was preoccupied with something else, and Draco couldn't help but notice how she continuously stopped her knitting and glanced up at the clock.

Draco shut his notebook (in which he'd been listing all the spells he could think of that started with the letter A) and glanced around.

"Who are you waiting for, mother?" he asked.

Narcissa met his gaze and then shook her head and returned to her knitting.

At that moment, there was a knock at the door. Narcissa sprung to her feet and ran for it. It was absolutely pouring out as she helped a tall man into the house. She took off his black coat which sprinkled raindrops everywhere and led him into the living room. He shook his wet hair and then met Draco's eyes.

"Good evening, Draco," said Severus Snape.

"Hey," Draco responded.

"Sit down," Narcissa instructed and Snape sat. "I'm so glad you got my letter."

"I came as soon as I did," said Snape.

"So?" said Narcissa, who looked very hopeful.

"I'm sorry," said Snape. "I wish there was something I could do but I'm afraid there isn't."

"Mother," began Draco, but she completely ignored him.

"Look, Severus, I'm desperate here. I have to see her, you don't understand how difficult it is."

"You don't think I understand?" said Snape. "I can't do anything about it, Narcissa. Unless you legally file for a divorce—"

Narcissa shut him up at once and glanced nervously at Draco.

"Why don't you take your work upstairs, darling?"

Draco stared, unaware that his jaw had just dropped.

"Go on," said Narcissa kindly.

With a nod from Snape, Draco grabbed his notebook and dashed up the stairs, stopping at the top stair to eavesdrop on the conversation.

"Unless you legally file for a divorce," Snape continued, "He will know if you visit her."

"Oh Severus, I have to know how she's doing," said Narcissa, worriedly. "She's my sister. I have to know. And Lucius is being paranoid as ever; he thinks if I visit her, the aurors will take that to mean that I'm planning some dark magic and arrest me for conspiracy!"

"He might be right on this one, Cissy," said Snape. "But I have no shame in going. I've got Dumbledore's protection. I'll go visit her for you."

"Oh, Severus, thank you!"

They embraced each other in a warm hug and then Snape conjured up some tea which Narcissa poured for the both of them.

"Where have you been?!" exclaimed Hermione as Draco finally met up with her in the meadow a week later.

She embraced him in a tight hug and then led him over to their spot, where she'd already laid out some food for them to share.

"I'm not hungry," said Draco after she offered him some sweet bread.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" she asked. "Have I done something weird again?"

"N-no," said Draco, grimly. "Look...I can't keep avoiding this any longer. I'm not going to go to the same school as you this fall."

"Oh," said Hermione.

"Yeah, it's just...wait, did you say oh?"

"Yeah."

"You don't sound surprised."

"Well…" she paused. "I have something to tell you too. I'm not going to the same school as you this fall either."

"W-what do you mean?"

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It seemed like she'd rehearsed this conversation before.

"I'm going to boarding school, Draco."

"Y-you are?"

"Yeah, I got accepted to this...special school, recently, and it's really far away and I'll be going there every year. But I'll be back every summer!"

"Mhm," said Draco, frowning. "And what school is this?"

"It's called Hogwarts," said Hermione.

Draco's heart stopped.

Noticing this, Hermione quickly went on.

"I'm not sure exactly where it is but it's pretty far. Anyway, I'm really excited to go there, but also kind of nervous. I don't want the other kids to think I'm weird again."

"Hermione," said Draco, but she didn't seem to hear him.

"And I really want them to like me, but I also want to do well. You know, study well. I've already read most of the course work so I'm pretty knowledgable on first year material."

"Hermione,"

"And I really wish you were there with me, I really do. But...well, this school requires...exclusive invitation...I don't think anyone can just attend. Oh but if you did, it'd be wonderful! And—"

"Hermione!"

She finally stopped and met his eyes.

"I'm a wizard too," said Draco, pulling the Hogwarts letter out from his pocket and unfolding it in front of him. "And I'm also going to Hogwarts this fall."

* * *

 **I'm currently finishing up a really long fanfiction so updates on this one will probably be once a week. After I'm done with the other story, I'll focus more on this one.**

 **I only released this now to see if it'll get some good feedback ahead of time. Even though, either way, I still think I'll end up writing the whole thing.**

 **But please review anyway! Thanks**


	3. Year 1: The Hogwarts Express

**A/N: Hey guys! I'll have chapter 4 for you as soon as I can. Right now I'm alternating between two important fanfics so please be patient. I promise, I'll keep this story going because I'm getting really excited about it. **

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is J.K Rowling's property. Thanks**

* * *

CHAPTER 3: YEAR 1—THE HOGWARTS EXPRESS

* * *

 _Harry_

* * *

Diagon Alley was a place Harry had visited many times in his life. It was a place he was already quite familiar with. But to go there with the knowledge that he needed school supplies and uniform was another thing entirely. James was unable to get off work for the occasion so Lily and Sirius accompanied Harry in his shopping instead. They bought his potions equipment and books in the first hour and then stopped to get ice cream before heading down to _Madame Malkin's Robes For All Occasions_. Harry couldn't help but notice how passer-byers turned their heads as they spotted him walking. It was an incredible feeling to be known everywhere.

"What do you think so far?" Sirius asked as he dug in his pockets for some galleons to pay for the ice cream.

"I think they're pretty hefty books," said Harry, eyeing the shopping bags.

"Says the boy who's reading _Hogwarts: A History_ for the second time," laughed Lily.

"The second time, eh?" said Sirius, who looked impressed.

Harry shrugged. He loved his mother to death, but she was so incredibly naive.

"I think we should split up from here," Sirius suggested. "I can go look at wands for now, Lily can go try finding the last book on this list, and Harry, you can go get fitted for robes."

"Right, we'll meet back here in, say, one hour?" said Lily, checking her watch.

"See you then," said Harry, waving goodbye to two of his favourite people in the world.

Madame Malkin's shop was easy to find. Though Harry had never been there before, he knew his way around quite well. At the sight of him, however, Madame Malkin froze instantly.

"Oh my goodness," she said, and her fingers began to shake against the flower vase she was holding. "It's you! It's...it's...it's Harry Potter!"

The shop instantly became quiet. Harry grinned.

"It's me," he said, slowly stepping further into the shop.

"Oh!" squealed Madame Malkin, and she nearly dropped the flower vase as she did. She carefully placed it on top of the shelf nearby and then hurried over to shake Harry's hand.

"Hogwarts, I take it?"

Harry nodded.

"Right this way, Mr. Potter."

He followed her over to the other room where a blond boy was standing on a small footstool, getting fitted for his robes. They eyed each other for a brief second before Harry was led into a changing room and handed fresh new robes for a Hogwarts first-year. Once he was out, Madame Malkin led him to a footstool as well and began to tug at his robes.

"You know, I've been wondering when you'd finally show up in my shop," she said, happily. "We're all just dying to know what you'll be like at Hogwarts."

"You are?" said Harry.

"Oh yes," said Madame Malkin. "Most definitely, my dear boy. We want to know everything—what house you'll be in, whether you'll be good at Quidditch like your father, whether you'll be smart like your mother…"

"Well," laughed Harry. "I promise, you won't be disappointed."

Madame Malkin beamed at him.

"I'll be right back," she said after a moment and ran off to the other room to fetch something for his robes.

"Oy," said Harry to the blond-haired boy. "What's your name?"

"Doesn't matter what's my name," said the boy.

"Alright then," said Harry. "What's gotten your wand in a knot?"

"Nothing," muttered the boy.

"Whoa," said Harry, "Talk about anger management problems."

"Just leave me alone, kay?" said the boy.

"Whatever man," said Harry, lazily.

Before the boy could say anything else, Madame Malkin returned with the finishing touch to Harry's robes and then declared him ready. He changed back into his muggle clothes, paid for the clothes, and exited the shop without another word to the rude blond-haired boy. _He would surely be a Slytherin_ , thought Harry.

The rest of the trip went well. Harry selected a fairly strong wand from Ollivander and Lily gladly showed him a few simple beginner's spells which he already mastered by the time they got home. They'd gotten all of his things and he was all packed and ready to go to Hogwarts. It was only a matter of days now.

Harry found himself even more excited than he thought he'd be, though he tried not to show this in front of his parents and have a casual attitude instead. They fell for it, as always. He never felt really guilty about playing them like this because it didn't cause anyone any harm. But the only person he was ever truly himself with was Sirius, and for Harry, that was good enough.

After that, the days seemed to fly on by and sooner than later, it was the morning of Harry's departure from Godric's Hollow. Lily was slightly teary-eyed though she tried not to show it. James helped Harry bring his trunk down the stairs and Hedwig's cage. Lily packed his money pouch and pictures of each of his family members, as if he would forget what they looked like after just one year.

"Muuum," said Harry as she proceeded to hug him. "I'll be back for Christmas. Come on, mum."

"I'm sorry," she said. "You're right, this is silly. We'll see each other in just a few months."

"Exactly," said Harry, who felt like he'd finally won.

"Oh, before I forget," said Lily, "I told Augusta Longbottom that you'd be expecting Neville at the front of the train."

"Neville?" said Harry, in a less than enthused voice.

"Yes, we thought it'd be nice for you two to ride the train together," said Lily. "That way you'll both have at least one friend before you even get to Hogwarts."

"Right," mumbled Harry. "Yeah, okay."

"Come on, guys, let's go," said James.

Together, the three headed out of their house in Godric's Hollow and down the main street until they managed to haul a muggle car that brought them to King's Cross. Sensing that Harry was slightly nervous, James held his hand and led him through the barrier to platform nine and three quarters. Not a second later than their arrival, Lily regretted their decision to send Harry to Hogwarts.

A swarm of parents came rushing at Harry and crowded him with pleas for his autographs and requests to hear the story of how he'd conquered the Dark Lord when he was only just an infant. The parents seemed to completely forget about their own children who remained behind, guarding their luggage. Harry smiled shyly and nodded at the crowd as they continued to thank him.

"I just can't believe I'm meeting you at last," said one, elderly woman.

"Say mate, could you give me a quote for the Daily Prophet? Just one, go on."

"We'd love to hear your tale, Mr. Potter, if you'll grant us this honour."

James put an arm around Harry's shoulder and guided him through the crowd. It was safe to say that Harry was going to be at the height of cool. Though, James did not want him overwhelmed—especially not on his first day.

"Alright, let's settle down," he said kindly to the surrounding crowd. "Come on, people, we just want to escort our son to the train. Yes, yes, we'll give you your quotes after he's boarded it. Come on now, let us through. Thank you, thank you."

Lily held Harry's arm tighter and a look of worry crossed her face as she helped him through the crowd. Together with James, they loaded his trunk onto the train and then escorted him to the front door where young Neville was already waiting.

"Hey Nev," said Harry. Neville waved back to him.

James embraced him in a hug while Lily checked Harry's things again. Harry could not hear what James was telling Neville, but it didn't really matter because the Daily Prophet photographers had arrived at the platform and were now clicking away in Harry's direction. He was sure to give them big smiles over Lily's shoulder.

"Well, this is it, I suppose," said James, who finally released Neville.

"Yeah," said Harry, who was still looking back at the admiring crowd with glee.

"Harry," said Lily, in desperate hopes to get his attention. "You'll write to us, won't you? And Sirius too?"

Harry turned back to her.

"Yeah, of course I will."

Lily smiled.

"Oh and don't forget that you've been invited to Hagrid's for tea next Tuesday," said James, "Both of you."

"We won't," said Harry, reassuringly.

Neville nodded.

"You've got everything?" said Lily for the hundredth time that day.

"Yep," said Harry simply, grabbing a hold of Hedwig's cage. "Don't worry, mum, I've got it all under control. You guys should go now."

"The kids are good, Lils," said James, who placed an arm around her and winked at Harry. "Come on, let's split before they start asking for _our_ autographs."

"Okay," laughed Lily. It was a nervous laugh. "Say hi to Remus for us."

"We will," said Harry, and with one last hug, he let them be off.

 _Alone at last_ , he thought. He looked around curiously, hoping to gather some more mates before boarding the train.

"How's your summer been, Nev?" he asked, casually, as he continued looking around for lone straddlers.

"It was alright," said Neville, "You?"

"Pretty good," said Harry. "Hung out a lot with Sirius, practiced Quidditch with dad, you know, the usual."

"Sure," said Neville, in a quiet voice.

"Jackpot," said Harry, whose eyes had landed on a red-headed boy standing a few feet away from a large red-headed family. "What do you think, Nev, a first-year?"

"Probably," said Neville, shrugging.

"Come on," said Harry, "Let's go introduce ourselves."

They made their way over to the side of the station where the red-headed family was standing. At the sight of Harry, they all fell instantly quiet.

"Hey there," said Harry, brightly. "How are you all today?"

"Mummy, it's him!" shrieked the youngest of them all—a little red-headed girl.

Her mother shushed her at once and smiled brightly at Harry.

"We're doing quite well, dear, how are you?"

Harry smiled and eyed the others. They were a fairly large family. The boy who looked to be about his age seemed slightly nervous. His older twin brothers were smirking at Harry, another boy who was even older than them was standing quietly beside them already in his school uniform and sporting a Prefect's badge, and another man who looked too young to be their father but too old to be a Hogwarts student, was eyeing Harry curiously.

After they exchanged a few more kind words, the Weasleys were on a first-name basis with Harry and Neville. Fred and George (the twins) led them, along with their younger brother Ron, into the train while Percy (the prefect boy) went to join the other prefects. They waved goodbye to their family and then the twins headed for a compartment of their own.

"Come on," Harry waved to Neville and Ron and led them to the first empty compartment he could find.

They seated themselves on opposite ends—Harry and Neville facing Ron—and let their pets free of their cages. Hedwig hooted happily and flew out the window for a bit of a trip as the train began to move. Ron was eyeing Harry nervously and holding tightly onto his white rat.

"What's his name?" Harry asked, gesturing at the rat.

"Uh, Pigwidgeon," said Ron, "Pig for short."

"You've got a rat named Pig?" laughed Harry. "That's pretty wicked cool."

"Thanks," said Ron.

"Neville here's got a toad named Trevor," said Harry, "And I've had Hedwig since I was five."

"That's cool," said Ron, who didn't know what else to say to the Boy Who Conquered.

"Come on," said Harry, smiling. "Go ahead, ask me."

"Uh, ask you what?"

"Whatever it is you're dying to ask me," said Harry, with a smirk. "Come on, I know you want to. Just do it."

"Okay," said Ron, slowly. "So like, do you have some kind of...souvenir from...from that night?"

"Nah," said Harry, waving his hand. "The man didn't even touch me."

"Wicked," said Ron, who looked impressed.

Harry's smile broadened. He pulled out his new wand and eyed it hungrily. It was amazing. All his life, he'd watched his parents use their wands so skillfully with such great envy. He'd always wanted his own wand. Noticing that Ron was eyeing it too, Harry pocketed it and smiled at him.

"You've got a big family," he observed.

"Y-yeah, they're something," said Ron, whose face fell. "I love them but I sometimes wish I was an only child."

"Nah you don't," said Harry. "It's really boring. Having lots of brothers and a sister looks wicked cool."

Ron smiled.

"What about you, Neville?" he asked. "Have you got any siblings?"

Neville shook his head and looked back down at Trevor, whom he was holding tightly in his hands.

"Nev lives with his grandmother," said Harry. "My parents are his godparents."

"Oh that's cool," said Ron. "So you guys are kind of like brothers?"

"Yeah, you could say that," said Harry, lazily. "Say, Ron, know what house you'll be in?"

"Well," said Ron. "No one can really know for sure, can they? But the Weasleys have been in Gryffindor for generations so naturally that's where I hope to be."

"Awe sweet!" said Harry. "Both my parents were in Gryffindor too, so that's where I'm headed. Nev here, too."

"Awesome," said Ron.

They talked about famous Quidditch teams for the next hour, during which Ron seemed to magically overcome his shyness and was more comfortable around Harry. At around noon, the food trolley began to make its rounds. Harry pulled out his money pouch just as the compartment door slid open. At that exact moment, Neville's toad leapt from his lap and hopped its way out of the compartment.

"Trevor!" he cried, and ran after it.

Harry chuckled.

"Should we help him?" said Ron.

"Nah, Trevor always does that," said Harry. "He'll be back soon."

He handed the money to the lady with the food trolley.

"What'll it be, dear?" she asked, sweetly.

"A bit of everything," said Harry, winking at Ron.

"How are you going to eat all of that?" said Ron after the lady had left.

"I'm not," said Harry, " _We_ are."

"Oh," said Ron, "No, it's okay. I mean, you don't have to do that. I mean, I'm not hungry."

At these words, his stomach let out a loud growl. Harry grinned.

"Yeah, I can see that," he said, and he tossed Ron a chocolate frog. "Don't worry about it, mate, I've got plenty more where that came from."

By the time Neville returned with Trevor, Harry and Ron were laughing over Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and working their way through more chocolate frogs.

"Hungry, Nev?" said Harry.

"I'll just take a licorice wand," said Neville.

"Suit yourself," said Harry.

The rest of the train ride was spent with Harry and Ron telling jokes and Neville reading a book Harry had loaned him last Christmas. As the evening neared, the boys changed into their Hogwarts robes and by the time the train reached Hogsmeade Station and slowed to a stop, the boys were the best of friends. Neville was still very quiet but Harry told Ron to disregard this and not to take it personally.

They got off the train together and lined up with the other first-years, no longer feeling nervous. In fact, Harry felt quite at home already. Hagrid was standing at the front of the line, smiling down at the first-years. When he spotted Harry, he waved at him with his large hand. Harry waved back.

"How do you two know each other?" said Ron, curiously as they followed the line to the boats at the back.

"He's a friend of mum and dad's," explained Harry. "We've had him over for Christmas every year since I was born."

"Ah," said Ron, who couldn't help but notice how all eyes were on them.

Harry noticed too, and was enjoying it very much. Together, he and the others sailed on the boats across the lake, headed for the giant Hogwarts castle. It was magnificent. The hundreds of candle-lit windows were illuminated in the darkness and the towers reached all the way up to the clouds. Harry could not wait to get inside, and neither could Ron. Though, Ron was admittedly more curious about Harry than about the castle.

"So like, what do your parents do now?" he asked as they sailed the boats.

"Mum works from home with some department at the ministry," said Harry. "I can't remember the name; it's too long. Dad is head of the auror office. Sirius works down at Hogsmeade but he also referees for the Chudley Cannons and they're going on a year-long tour worldwide."

"Whoa," said Ron, who was very, very impressed. "That's like wicked cool!"

"Yeah, he's pretty awesome," said Harry, shrugging but smiling. "How about your parents?"

"Oh," said Ron, "Um, mum stays at home to take care of the house and dad works at the ministry too...in the Misuse of—"

"—Of Muggle Artefacts Office," said Harry, "Yeah, dad's mentioned him. Arthur, right?"

"Right," said Ron. "Yeah, he wasn't at the station today, he had to work."

"Figured," said Harry.

They got off the boats with the rest of the first-years and went through the large front doors into the Entrance Hall. A tall woman with a long pointed hat and dark green robes was standing at the front, waiting to greet them. The first-years lined up excitedly in front of her and looked around the beautiful corridor.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall.

* * *

 _Draco_

* * *

"Don't you even think about going to Borgin's place, you understand?" said Narcissa as she slipped the last bit of coins she could find into the small money pouch and handed it to Draco. "I don't care what your father says; If I find out you've gone anywhere near Knockturn Alley, it'll be the last time you've ever left the house."

"Yes, mother," said Draco.

"Alright, go on. Be back here in three hours or I'll send Severus to go looking for you."

"Goodbye, mother."

Draco grabbed the bit of floo powder she handed him and disappeared behind the emerald green flames of the fireplace. He landed in the inside of a dusty old shop and made his way out into the sunny street of Diagon Alley. His clothes were now dirty from the ashes of the fireplace and he tried to dust them off as best as he could to make himself look presentable. He looked around. The street was pretty crowded with prospective Hogwarts students doing their shopping with their parents. Draco tried not to think about the fact that Hermione would be arriving there soon with her parents, and they would see just how dirty and poor he was.

He grudgingly made his way over to Ollivander's Wand Shop and selected a 10'' Hawthorn with unicorn hair. It was pretty pricy which meant he'd have to buy some of his books afterwards when he was at Hogwarts and could ask Dumbledore for the school's financial services.

After Ollivander's, Draco went to _Madame Malkin's Robes For All Occasions_ to get fitted for his uniform. Of course, he had to get his school robes second-hand but Madame Malkin's assistant, Linda, was quite nice about it. She helped him up to the stool and tugged on his robes for a good twenty minutes while she talked about her Hogwarts years and how exciting they'd been.

"It's you!" cried Madame Malkin from the other room.

Linda turned around in surprise but then accidentally pinched Draco's knee and looked up at him apologetically. He dismissed it and tried to see behind the curtains to the other room.

"Oh my goodness!" cried Madame Malkin again.

"What's going on?" said Draco, curiously.

"Dunno," said Linda, shrugging, "Probably someone interesting just came into the shop. Hang on, let me get another needle."

She let go of the hem of his robes and went to rummage around the drawers. Madame Malkin then entered the room, leading a dark-haired boy who looked to be about Draco's age.

"Right this way, Mr. Potter," she said excitedly.

The boy met Draco's eyes for a brief second and then followed Madame Malkin into one of the spare change rooms.

"Ah," said Linda, who'd turned around just in time to get a glimpse of the boy. "Harry Potter—yes, everyone here's been talking nonstop about him, waiting for him to finally arrive at Diagon Alley."

"Potter?" said Draco, with disbelief. "You mean… you mean…"

"Yes, the Boy Who Conquered," said Linda. "If you ask me, I think it's far too much attention they're giving him. It won't do him any good to be surrounded by all that fame at such a young age. Anyway, bring your leg closer to here. Yes, that's it."

Draco looked back at the change room as Harry Potter came out of it and was led to a stool by Madame Malkin, who then began to tug at his robes.

"You know, I've been wondering when you'd finally show up in my shop," Madame Malkin was telling him. "We're all just dying to know what you'll be like at Hogwarts."

"You are?" said Potter, with an arrogant smirk.

"Oh yes," said Madame Malkin.

Draco scowled and looked away from him. The boy's face was cleaner than the most polished silver. His robes were brand new and his green eyes were sparkling with glee. Draco already didn't like him.

"Well," laughed Potter, "I promise, you won't be disappointed."

Madame Malkin let out a girlish giggle and left the room to fetch something for his robes.

"Oy," said Potter, and it was a while before Draco realised he was looking at him. "What's your name?"

"Doesn't matter what's my name," said Draco, coldly.

"Alright then," said Potter. "What's gotten your wand in a knot?"

"Nothing," muttered Draco.

Potter had arrogance written all over him. Draco knew well by now that he would be trouble once they reached Hogwarts.

"Whoa," said Potter, "Talk about anger management problems."

"Just leave me alone, kay?" snapped Draco. .

"Whatever man," said Harry, lazily.

But before Draco could retaliate, Madame Malkin returned with the finishing touch to Potter's robes and then declared him ready. He changed back into his muggle clothes, paid for the clothes, and exited the shop without another word or glance at Draco.

Feeling in a slightly fouler mood than he'd had before, Draco paid for his robes and exited the shop as well. He visited _Flourish & Blotts_ next, which was where he finally spotted Hermione. She didn't seem to recognize him though, or maybe she just didn't see him, because she didn't greet him. He decided not to approach her. He didn't want to meet her parents looking like this, otherwise they'd probably forbid her from being his friend. So instead, Draco spent most of his time at _Flourish & Blotts_ dodging the Grangers than looking for the second-hand books he was supposed to be purchasing.

He was finished with Diagon Alley sooner than he'd hoped he would be, and so, looking rather grim, he reluctantly made his way back home. He dusted himself thoroughly before entering the house. He ran straight upstairs to put his shopping things away. The spider was back at the window, eyeing him curiously.

"What are you staring at?" he snapped before retreating back downstairs.

He grabbed an apple from the kitchen and turned to leave when he heard his mother's soft voice from the living room.

"Draco."

He halted to a stop and stared at the wall on the opposite end. Had she really just called him?

"Draco, come here."

Yep, she had. Feeling nervous, Draco fixed his hair again and slowly entered the living room, hiding the apple behind his back. Narcissa was sitting on the couch, knitting. She looked up at him as he entered the room and smiled sadly.

"Did you get everything you needed?" she asked.

Draco stared at her, wide-eyed, too lost for words.

"I've been wondering when you'd be back," she said into the awkward silence.

Draco closed his mouth after realising that it had fallen open and continued to stare at his mother.

"Come sit," she said, pointing at the couch.

Draco forced his feet to move forward and took a seat on the couch next to Narcissa. He continued to stare at her, not knowing what to say. She too, seemed to be struggling for words. It was a while before she said anything.

"I know that things have been difficult the last few years," she said, nervously. "I'm sorry for that. W-when the war ended...we lost everything. And your father's just...he's not been in the best mood to pick himself up and help us out of this mess. And I know it's not fair to you...I'm sorry, Draco."

Draco said nothing, but dragged his eyes away from Narcissa and to the floor. She glanced at him nervously.

"I just thought you should know," she said, in a quiet voice, "You know, with you leaving for Hogwarts and all."

"Right," said Draco, who finally found his voice.

"Are you excited?" said Narcissa.

Draco shrugged.

"You'd better be in Slytherin," she said, sweetly.

Draco nodded.

"And you better not be friends with any filthy mudbloods."

He looked up at her, and Hermione's face came to mind at once.

"And if I am?"

"We'll feed you to a dementor," said Narcissa, sweetly.

"W-what?"

"Draco. Get up. DRACO!"

Draco opened his eyes sleepily and looked up at his mother who was standing over him. He was sitting in the rocking chair up in his room, the shopping bags from Diagon Alley at his feet.

"When did you get home?!" Narcissa barked into his ear.

"Uh," said Draco, who was not quite sure what had just happened. "I don't...remember."

"You were supposed to sweep the leaves in the yard!" said Narcissa. "Come on, nap time is over. Off you get, go on!"

Draco scrambled to his feet, shook his head to jerk himself awake, and ran down the stairs to the yard. After Madame Malkin's shop, he doubted his mood could get any worse. It felt really bad to be proven wrong now. From the moment the apple appeared, he should have known it was a dream. They rarely had any good food in the house. He got most of his "delicacies" from Hermione. Speaking of, when would she be back?

Lucius finally returned to the house that night. He argued again with Narcissa and then passed out on the living room couch. Narcissa ordered Draco out of the house because she needed to speak with Lucius. Feeling beyond relieved, Draco ran out the back door and hurried across the hills over to the rows of muggle houses. He found the right one within seconds. He picked some small rocks from the ground and threw them at the window on the corner left. He did this for about fifteen minutes or so until finally the curtains were drawn back and Hermione revealed herself. She smiled at the sight of Draco and next second she was out of the house.

Together, they made their way over to the meadow. Draco listened to her excitedly discussing Diagon Alley and everything that she saw there. He was kind of bored listening to it but let her ramble anyway. She was muggle-born—she couldn't help it.

"What did your parents think of it all?" he asked after she finally stopped to draw a breath.

"Mum and dad? They absolutely loved it! They were freaked out in the beginning, of course. How could I expect them not to be? First, they find out their daughter is a witch, then they're in a completely magical street full of witches and wizards and all magic things. But it'll be fine. They love me. And they're completely fine with me attending Hogwarts. They want me to do well. And Professor McGonagall explained to them—she visited my house, did I tell you?—that Hogwarts is the most elite school for magical arts there is. Mum and dad are really pleased."

"Good," said Draco, smiling at his friend's strangeness.

Hermione finally stopped talking and noticed his sadness.

"What is it?" she asked, with a look of deep concern.

"Nothing," said Draco, immediately. "Can you believe we were friends for a full month before we even knew that we weren't muggles?"

"I know!" laughed Hermione. "It's really weird, but I guess we're just meant to be friends!"

"Right," said Draco, sadly.

"What, what is it?" said Hermione, noticing that look on his face again.

Draco sighed.

"It's just… if my parents found out I'm friends with you—a muggle-born—well, they'd have my head for it."

Hermione frowned.

"W-why?"

"Well," said Draco, in a rather nervous voice. "You haven't been around the wizarding world for very long… you don't know about old wizarding prejudices."

"Prejudices?" repeated Hermione.

"Yeah, from traditional pureblood families."

"What is pureblood?"

Draco looked at her for a moment and then sighed.

"It means from original wizarding blood," he explained. "Families that are completely magical, that is. And then there is half-blood. That's when one of your parents is a muggle and the other is a witch or wizard."

"I'm neither," observed Hermione. "What does that make me?"

"A muggle-born," said Draco. "There are people out there who will call it something...else. A bad word. But there are witches and wizards out there who are born into completely muggle families and have no trace of magical blood in them. But they still have their powers."

"H-how?" said Hermione.

"Dunno," said Draco. "But there you go."

Hermione bit down on her lip.

"Draco,"

"Yeah?"

"Does it...make a difference...that I'm muggle-born?"

Draco looked up at her and wondered for a long time. Did it really make a difference? He'd become her friend before he even knew that she was a witch. She certainly was a witch. She'd proven to him that she could do magic. And she was very knowledgable already. She'd read everything that they would be studying in first-year, and then some. So what difference did it make really, how she came about to being a witch?

"No," he finally said. "It doesn't make a difference."

"Good," said Hermione, who heaved a sigh of relief.

Draco smiled at her.

A few days later, he was standing at the front door of his house as his Narcissa levitated his trunk down the stairs and set it on the floor beside him.

"All set?" she said, looking around for anything he might have forgotten.

"Yes, mother," he said.

She checked her watch and then looked at him.

"Well, you'd better go if you want to make that train."

"Right," said Draco, and he opened the door and pulled his trunk out.

"Goodbye," said Narcissa, before slamming it shut in his face.

Feeling less than happy with himself, he set for the hills towards Hermione's house. He only hoped that she'd warned her parents he was coming. He really didn't want to seem like a charity case to them. But all worries were gone as soon as he reached the house. They smiled sweetly at him and greeted him with hugs.

"Hermione's told us so much about you," said Mrs. Granger after she let go of Draco.

"Likewise," said Draco.

"Where are your parents, dear?" said Mrs. Granger. "I'd love to meet them."

"T-they had to work," lied Draco.

"Oh, well that's too bad," said Mrs. Granger. "Another time then, perhaps."

"Perhaps," agreed Draco.

"Come on, kids, we'd better hurry," said Mr. Granger and he led them to the black car that was parked in the driveway of their house.

They drove in silence, listening to classical music on the radio the whole way to King's Cross. Mr. Granger helped Draco load his trunk onto a crate and then helped his daughter do the same. Draco then led the grangers over to the barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten, and instructed them on how to get over to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Once there, they were too lost for words. The Grangers began to fumble around with their daughter, continuously checking to make sure she had everything with her. She too, asked them a gazillion questions, checking to make sure they knew how to send her mail. The little family seemed to forget all about Draco, which was fine by him. He loaded his luggage onto the train and hung around by the door, waiting for Hermione.

After several minutes, a commotion seemed to occur in the middle of the platform. The surrounding witches and wizards scurried like ants over to the corner and began to talk really loudly with much excitement. Draco tried to see over their heads but couldn't make out what the commotion was all about. Then, he heard some of what the people were shouting and it all clicked together right away.

"Harry Potter is here!"

"Harry Potter has arrived!"

"Mr. Potter, could we bother you for a quote?!"

"Mr. Potter, tell us about the Dark Lord!"

"Over here, Harry Potter!"

Scowling, Draco boarded the train at once. He found an empty compartment at the end of the train and seated himself away from the window. He stared angrily at the floor for a good ten minutes before the compartment door slid open and Hermione stood in the doorway. Draco looked up at her and smiled instantly.

"Where have you been?!" she asked frantically, causing his smile to fade. "I've been looking all over for you—almost got lost!"

"But it's a train," said Draco, in confusion. "How lost could you get?"

"Oh it doesn't matter!" said Hermione, taking a seat across from him and pulling her fat orange cat closer to herself. "Why didn't you wait for me?"

"I dunno," shrugged Draco. "I wanted to get us seats."

"Well," said Hermione, "Alright, but please don't leave me again. I'm so nervous!"

"Don't worry, you'll be great," he assured her. "Besides, what will you do if we don't end up in the same house?"

"You don't think we will?" said Hermione, nervously.

"Well," said Draco, slowly. "To be honest, I haven't given it much thought. I don't see why we shouldn't both be in Slytherin."

"Tell me about the houses again, Draco."

So Draco retold the story of the founders of Hogwarts for the hundredth time, even though Hermione already knew all about it because she'd read _Hogwarts: A History_. By the time the lady with the food trolley began making her rounds, Hermione was less nervous and more excited. She bought a few sweets and agreed to share them with Draco if he promised not to tell her parents (they were dentists).

"Hey, did you see that huge commotion back at the station?" she asked him after she'd had her third chocolate frog.

Draco lowered his licorice wand slowly.

"Uh, yeah," he said. "Yeah, I did see that."

"I can't believe Harry Potter's coming to Hogwarts," she said, excitedly. "I've read all about him. I know everything there is to know about the fall of the Dark Lord."

"Right," said Draco.

"Why aren't you more psyched?" Hermione finally asked, noticing his lack of enthusiasm.

Draco looked up at her. It was time. She needed to know.

"My family are not on very good terms with the Potters," he began.

"Why not?" said Hermione.

"When they defeated the Dark Lord, they took down a lot of people...including my family."

"Oh no," said Hermione. "I had no idea."

"Yeah," said Draco. "I wouldn't blame them for everything of course, but they're not exactly my favourite people on the planet. Anyway, let's not talk about them. Do you know, I'm really excited for you to meet Snape."

"Right," said Hermione. "What's he like?"

"Aw man, he's the best," said Draco. "He makes living in that place all the worthwhile."

"Does he really?" said Hermione, who seemed pleased to see Draco so happy.

"Yeah, he's like the perfect uncle that I never had," said Draco.

Hermione beamed at him.

"We're always going to be friends, right Hermione?" he said, suddenly. It'd been bothering him ever since he saw how perfectly she fit into his world, back at Flourish & Blotts. She was muggle-born. She had absolutely no history with the Great Wizarding War. She had that fresh start that Draco had always wanted, and was not associated with either side. She could choose freely now.

"Of course we are," said Hermione.

"You're sure?"

"Draco, you were not just my first wizard friend. You were my first friend, period. I'll never leave you."

Draco smiled.

"But if you slack in your studies, we'll have a problem," she added a second later.

Draco kicked her playfully, and then gestured at the window from which they could see, far in the distance, a couple of tall towers.

It was good to be home at last.

* * *

 **I did not proofread this chapter so my apologies for any mistakes. I'll go back to fix them later.**

 **Thanks and please review!**


	4. Year 1: The Sorting Hat

**A** **uthor's** **Note:** **I'm really excited about this chapter. This is where all the friendships (and nemeses) begin to form. The next chapter will be up next weekend probably. Thanks and enjoy**

 **Disclaimer:** **Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks**

* * *

CHAPTER 4: YEAR 1—THE SORTING HAT

* * *

 _Harry_

* * *

"Before we begin the feast, there will be the Sorting Ceremony wherein you'll be sorted into your houses," announced Professor McGonagall. "They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin."

Harry elbowed Ron playfully and he smirked in response. They were going to be the best Gryffindors that Hogwarts had seen since James and Sirius attended.

"While you are here, your house will be like your family," continued Professor McGonagall, addressing the crowd of first-years standing before her. "Your triumphs will earn you points, and any rule breaking will lose you points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup. Now, wait here please. The Sorting Ceremony will begin momentarily."

With that, Professor McGonagall left the first-years in the Entrance Hall to go and check if the others were ready for them. Ron turned to Harry.

"My brothers were teasing me the whole time that I'll be put into Slytherin," he admitted.

"I'd rather leave than be sorted into Slytherin," said Harry, shuddering at the thought. "Do you really think it's going to be a problem?"

"Nah," said Ron, waving his hand at the nonsense.

Though, Harry could tell it was bothering him. Just then, Neville moved through the crowd of students and finally joined them.

"Hey, where have you been?" said Harry.

"Talking to some students," said Neville, who was holding Trevor tightly so that he wouldn't get away again. "There are some really stuck up ones here."

He turned around and pointed at a blond-haired boy standing on the other side of the crowd. Harry squinted through his glasses and then snorted. It was the same strange boy back from Madame Malkin's shop.

"Why's he stuck up?" he wondered, aloud.

"He made fun of Trevor," said Neville. "It's not a big deal, but just really unnecessary." He turned to Ron who was also interested in the situation. "We've all come here to make friends, not enemies, right?"

"Right," said Harry and Ron together, both still watching the blond boy, who was talking to some girl with really bushy brown hair.

"Alright!" came Professor McGonagall's voice behind them. The students turned to face her. "Follow me, everyone!"

They were led through the main doors into the Great Hall where four long rows of tables seated hundreds of students. All eyes were on them, and suddenly Harry felt very self-conscious. He realised that most were looking at him so he kept his eyes at the front instead, where the staff table was. Professor Dumbledore—who Lily had described to Harry so many times before—was at the front of the staff table. On his side, Hagrid was smiling and waving at the newcomers. Remus was also smiling, though he looked very bad in shape, which Harry guessed to mean that he'd just overcome another full moon.

"Whoa!" exclaimed Ron, and he elbowed Harry and gestured for him to look up.

Over their heads, hundreds upon hundreds of candles were floating amidst an enchanted ceiling that strongly resembled the night sky. Harry's jaw dropped but he tried not to show it. It was pretty amazing. His parents had of course described it all to him so he'd known what to expect, but it was still very wicked to experience firsthand.

"It's not real, the ceiling," he heard some girl say behind him. "It's just bewitched to look like the night sky. I read about it in _Hogwarts: A History._ "

"Yeah, she knows everything there is to know about Hogwarts," said a boy, next to her.

Harry turned around to see who was talking and was surprised to see that it was that same blond-haired boy and bushy-haired girl back from the Entrance Hall. The boy was talking to all those around him about how smart the girl was. _What a tool_ , thought Harry.

The students finally reached the front where Professor McGonagall lined them up before a stool on which lay a shabby old wizard's hat. Harry eyed it with curiosity. The one thing his parents had never told him was how the Sorting Hat chose the appropriate house. Up until now, he'd been pretty confident about Gryffindor. Both his parents had been true Gryffindors. Sirius and Remus were Gryffindors too. So were Hagrid and Dumbledore. There was no reason that he shouldn't be a Gryffindor himself. But what if he wasn't?

"When I call your name," announced Professor McGonagall, "You will step forth. I will place the sorting hat onto your head and you will be sorted into your houses."

Ron exchanged a nervous look with Harry and then gulped nervously. Neville was the only one who didn't seem nervous. Harry strongly suspected that his father had said something to Neville about this, back at the train station before they left.

Professor McGonagall began to call students and one by one, they were sorted into their houses. Ron exchanged a look with his brothers who were watching him from the Gryffindor table with gleeful smiles on their faces. He gave them a nervous wave and then turned back to the front, looking utterly terrified.

"Relax," Harry whispered to him.

From what Ron had told him, the entire Weasley family had been in Gryffindor for generations. So, surely Ron had absolutely nothing to worry about. Then again, Harry knew that Sirius' entire family had been sorted into Slytherin and Sirius was the first to be put in Gryffindor. At this point, he had no way of knowing where he'd be placed until it was his turn to step up to the stool. It could even be Hufflepuff, for all he knew. But it definitely wouldn't be Ravenclaw. If there was one thing he knew, it was that—despite what Lily thought—he was not that smart. Perhaps the bushy-haired girl from behind him would be placed there. She seemed to be the only one still talking, in hushed whispers, reciting everything she knew about Hogwarts to her neighbours.

"Finnigan, Seamus!" called Professor McGonagall.

A short boy walked up to the stool nervously and was placed into Gryffindor almost immediately. Looking pleased with himself, he went to join the rightful table which was still cheering for him as a Justin Finch-Fletchley was sorted into Hufflepuff next.

"Granger, Hermione!" called Professor McGonagall.

The bushy-haired girl walked past Harry up to the front and took a seat on the stool.

"Mental, that one," said Ron, who had also been listening to her rant.

Harry chuckled lightly.

The hat seemed to take a few seconds to think but ultimately made its decision.

"Gryffindor!" it bellowed.

Hermione jumped from the stool happily and went to join the cheering table. Harry and Ron spotted Fred and George shaking her hand. Ron sighed.

"Longbottom, Neville!"

"Good luck, Nev," said Harry as Neville brushed past him.

Harry saw him exchange a look with Remus before he sat down on the stool and Professor McGonagall placed the hat on his head. Almost as soon as she did, the hat bellowed "Gryffindor!" Harry cheered with the rest of the Gryffindor table. Not that he'd ever had any doubt in it, but he was still pleased that Neville had made it into the rightful house.

"Malfoy, Draco!"

Ah. The blond-haired boy. He moved up to the front quite slowly. When he turned around, Harry noticed that he didn't look very pleased anymore. In fact, he looked depressed if nothing else. The hat was on his head for all of two seconds before it cried "Slytherin!" Malfoy hopped off the stool and slowly made his way over to the table on the other end of the hall, where a few students were cheering for him and even offered to shake his hand. Ron breathed again. It was obvious he'd been afraid that Malfoy would be sorted into Gryffindor.

Harry's eyes met Hagrid's and they exchanged a smile as Hagrid gave him the thumbs up. He was very pleased to see Harry. They'd last met on Christmas and that was a while ago. Padma Patil was placed into Ravenclaw next, and her twin sister Parvati in Gryffindor.

"Potter, Harry!"

At long last, it was Harry's turn. Feeling a little more confident now, he stepped up to the stool, noticing how there were many excited gasps from the crowd. He was extremely famous here. Some were even pointing and whispering excitedly to each other. They were no doubt hoping that he would be placed into their houses. But Harry knew where he was going. He was not going to go anywhere else. Professor McGonagall placed the hat on him, covering his eyes, and he waited.

"Hmmm," said the voice of the Sorting Hat. "Difficult…very difficult…"

"Why?" wondered Harry.

"Why?" said the Hat, who appeared to be amused. "Well, because you have two very important qualities about you…those belong in two different houses. And I'm trying to decide which quality you portray most."

"That's easy," said Harry. "Gryffindor of course."

"Ah, I'm not so sure," said the Hat.

"Well, check again," said Harry. "I'm positive that's where I'm supposed to go."

"Are you sure?" said the Hat. "Oh don't tell me. I know what you're thinking. Your mother was in Gryffindor, and she was muggle-born so she was the first of her family. Your father was in Gryffindor and the rest of his bloodline was too. So that means you must be in Gryffindor, is that correct?"

"Yes," said Harry, simply.

"Do you remember Sirius Black? His whole family was in Slytherin and I placed him in Gryffindor."

Harry said nothing.

"You're nervous now, aren't you?" said the Hat.

"Nope," said Harry, and he was surprised that it was the truth. "I believe I belong in Gryffindor."

"That's very brave of you," said the Hat, thoughtfully. "Brave to contradict me."

"Just pick something," said Harry, though he closed his eyes now and wished with all his might to be placed in Gryffindor.

Chuckling, the Hat cleared its throat.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The hall erupted into cheers and applause, all coming from the Gryffindor table of course. Everyone there was pleased to have a celebrity join their house. They took turns patting him on the back and shaking his hand and welcoming him to Hogwarts. He took a seat beside Neville who also muttered congratulations to him. Over in the staff table, Hagrid was cheering loudly and Remus was also applauding. Dumbledore, Harry noticed, simply smiled and waved Professor McGonagall to continue with the Sorting Ceremony.

Dean Thomas was placed into Gryffindor as well. Then came a few Hufflepuffs, a couple of more Slytherins, and several Ravenclaws.

"Weasley, Ronald!"

Finally. Harry watched poor, nervous Ron make his way over to the stool.

"Here we go," muttered Fred and George together. They were obviously betting on where he would be placed because they already had the sickles on the table in front of them and were watching Ron intently. Harry's smile broadened.

"Gryffindor!" yelled the Hat.

Again, the table erupted with loud cheers. George looked bewildered as he handed his money over to Fred. Their older brother Percy stood up to hug Ron once he'd joined the table. Harry patted him on the back as well and Neville looked pleased too. Once the Sorting Ceremony finally concluded, Dumbledore wished everyone a good evening and the feast began.

Harry and Ron stuffed their plates with a bit of everything they could reach. There was so much wonderful, colourful food for them to choose from. Ron bit into three different turkey legs at once and Harry stuffed his face with mashed potatoes and cheddar. The Hall was filled with conversations and the clanking of silverware on plates and goblets. The ghosts soon came out to say hello too. Harry was not freaked out in the slightest. His parents had done a good job in preparing him for Hogwarts. Same thing happened with Ron. Hermione however, looked slightly frightened at the sight of them.

"Do not worry too much about them," Percy Weasley told her. "Some are friendly and some are mean but if you don't bother them, you'll be fine."

"Good to know, thanks," she responded. "Are you a prefect?"

"Yep," said Percy, gleaming at the title. "You look muggle-born."

"I do…?"

"Well, I mean you seem new to all of this," he clarified.

"Ah," said Hermione. "Yeah, yeah I am. Does it show?"

"Not too much," said Percy. "Are you pleased to be here?"

"Oh, absolutely!" cried Hermione. "I just can't wait for classes to begin. I've already read all the course work but I've only read a quarter of the books twice. I still need to read the other three quarters for the second time. Just to be sure, you know? Anyway, I've heard the most frightful things on the train ride here about the Hogwarts exams. So it's a good thing that I prepared myself ahead of time, I guess. But it wouldn't hurt to maybe try reading them for a third time."

"Mental!" exclaimed Ron, but only so that Harry could hear.

Harry laughed, causing some heads to turn in his direction.

"…as for the exams," said Percy, "They're not too bad. Just make sure you do enough revision ahead of time and you'll be fine. I take it you want to be a prefect yourself?"

"Oh, it'd be absolutely amazing!" said Hermione, and her eyes actually sparkled at the mention of it.

Harry shook his head. Some people just worried too darn much.

"Um, Harry Potter?"

"Yeah?"

Harry turned to look at a girl who was sitting on Hermione's other side. She had light brown hair up in a ponytail and lots of pink bracelets on her arm.

"My name is Lavender," she said, in a shy voice. "I was just wondering…w-why are you in Gryffindor?"

"Cause it's the best house," said Harry, simply.

This won him several cheers from those sitting nearby.

"Say, are you into Quidditch at all?" asked Dean Thomas.

"Absolutely," said Harry.

"You got any brooms?" asked Fred…or maybe it was George. Harry wasn't sure.

"Yeah, eight of 'em."

That part of the table grew very, very quiet. Harry looked up and stared at them.

"What?" he said, grinning slightly.

"Nothing," said Fred and George together, who looked quite amused.

"So like, what kinds of brooms do you have then?" asked Ron.

Harry thought for a minute.

"The comet, the moontrimmer, Siberian Arrow, Cleansweep Eleven, Nimbus 1500, Nimbus 1700, Nimbus 2000—though the 2000 is the best model out of those—oh and Thunderbolt."

"Whoa," said the boys, collectively.

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to talk to Lavender Brown, who was still watching Harry with awe. Harry smirked.

Sitting across from him, Neville was having a conversation with Seamus Finnigan. He was still holding Trevor.

"I'm half and half," said Seamus, proudly. "Me dad's a muggle. Mum's a witch. Twas a bit of a nasty shock for him when he found out."

Neville smiled at the little story and then proceeded to pet Trevor. Harry noticed Neville had nothing on his plate. He gave him a questioning look but Neville shook his head, indicating not to worry about it. So Harry let it go.

"What are you?" Seamus asked him.

"What?" said Neville, who looked to be momentarily distracted.

"He's full," Harry answered, never taking his eyes off of him.

"Whoa, you're the first pureblood I met!" exclaimed Seamus.

Neville smiled weakly.

After the feast, Professor Dumbledore stood up to say a few words regarding when Quidditch tryouts would begin, where not to go, and what the caretaker (Mr. Filch) expected of the students that year, regarding cleanliness. Then, it was time to go to the common rooms.

Percy Weasley instructed all the first year Gryffindors to follow him. Harry and Ron walked together, with Neville behind them and Seamus tagging along. Hermione was walking up at the front with Percy, ranting about the O.W.L examinations in fifth year. The group made their way over to the Entrance Hall and then up the long marble staircase until they reached Gryffindor tower. They stopped before the infamous portrait of the Fat Lady (whom Harry had heard so much about from Sirius). Percy gave her that week's password ( _Lemon Drops_ ) and the portrait door swung open, revealing a large, cozy-looking circular room. The first years looked around excitedly, gasping at cool-looking objects.

"Boys' dormitories are up and down on the left," said Percy. "And girls, the same on your right. You'll find that all your belongings have already been brought up for you."

Harry and Ron darted up the stairs to claim their beds. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas followed them of course. Everyone wanted to bunk with the Boy Who Conquered. Harry claimed the bed nearest to the biggest window. Ron took the one on his right side and Harry threw his sweater on the one on the other side, to claim it for Neville (who took his time up the stairs). Seamus and Dean began wrestling for one of the beds. Harry and Ron watched them for a bit, laughing, before turning to change into their pajamas. They climbed into bed, still discussing the Quidditch tryouts that would be coming in the next couple of weeks. Soon, Seamus and Dean settled down and got into bed as well. The boys extinguished the lights in the dormitory and lay, staring at the ceiling, wondering and hoping. What for? Who knows. It was good to be at Hogwarts at last.

* * *

 _Draco_

* * *

"Draco, I'm nervous!" said Hermione as they climbed out of the boats and stepped onto the land.

The giant Hagrid was holding up a large lantern and waving them into the castle. All of the first years moved together, quickly and noisily. There was a mixture of nerves and excitement in the air, but for Draco, it was a wonderful day. He had been waiting for Hogwarts all his life, and now he could finally _start_ his life.

"Draco," whispered Hermione as they followed the crowd along the path to the front doors and slowly made their way into the Entrance Hall. "What if we're—?"

"Don't worry," he replied, "We won't be."

"But how do you—?"

"I just do, okay?"

Hermione looked at him nervously but he only nodded in encouragement and led her after him. They gathered with the rest of their classmates in front of a tall, stern-looking woman in dark green robes and a pointed hat. She waited for them to settle down and then waved her hands to silence them.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said. "Now before we begin the feast, there will be the Sorting Ceremony wherein you'll be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin."

At this, Draco smiled at Hermione encouragingly and she nodded, with a worried look on her face. She was extremely nervous. They'd spent the entire train ride discussing the four houses and at this point, Hermione was completely unsure as to where she would be sorted. She kept leaning towards Ravenclaw but Draco was almost certain she was a Slytherin. By the time they'd arrived at Hogsmeade Station, she was positively confused and overwhelmed.

"…the Sorting Ceremony will begin momentarily," concluded Professor McGonagall, and with that, she departed from the hall, leaving the first-years to glance around the beautiful walls and ceiling.

" _Hogwarts: A History_ sure doesn't prepare you for this," said Hermione, nervously.

"Breathe," Draco advised her, and she smiled slightly but continued looking around and fidgeting.

A short (or as tall as Hermione anyway) black-haired boy who was holding some kind of a toad in his hands noticed that Hermione was nervous and approached her with a small smile.

"It's okay to be nervous on your first day," he assured her. "Everybody gets nervous."

"I don't see anyone else here having a fit," she observed.

"Muggle born, right?" said the boy.

Hermione frowned.

"Y-you can tell?"

"No," said the boy, quickly. "I mean, it was just a guess. You don't seem to know your way around here."

"Well, she knows," said Draco, firmly. "She knows everything there is to know about Hogwarts, alright?"

"Uh, alright," said the boy. "I'm Neville Longbottom by the way."

"Hermione Granger," said Hermione.

Neville smiled at her before turning to Draco.

"And you are…?"

"…wondering why your toad is staring at me like that," said Draco, who was eyeing Neville's toad with deep dislike.

"Name's Trevor," said Neville, looking down at him with admiration.

"He's nice," said Hermione.

"He's my best friend," said Neville.

"That's sad," said Draco.

Hermione gave him an odd look but didn't say anything. Neville raised his eyebrows, frowned, and then turned and walked away.

"What a freak," said Draco, looking after him. "Anyway, you feeling any better?"

"No," said Hermione, truthfully, and she glanced around again.

"I'm telling you, it's going to be fine!" said Draco. "You'll be in Slytherin with me and we'll have a blast. I can't believe we're already here. I can't tell you how long I've waited for this."

"Yeah," said Hermione. "Yeah, it's wonderful."

Just then, Professor McGonagall returned to the Entrance Hall and guided the students to follow her in.

The Great Hall was the most magnificent thing Draco had ever seen. The four long rows of tables housed hundreds of students, all of whom were watching the first years eagerly. Some began to whisper excitedly and even pointed, but Draco could care less. Up at the front staff table, he could see Snape sitting on the end, chatting with a teacher he didn't know. Well, at least there was one familiar face.

Beside Draco, Hermione was in a full-on rant about the ceiling above them, which was littered with floating candles accompanied by an enchanted sky.

"Wow, how do you know all that?" asked a boy who was walking alongside them.

"She knows everything there is to know about Hogwarts," Draco told him, before Hermione could answer.

She smiled at this answer but continued as though she hadn't been interrupted at all.

"It's all in _Hogwarts: A History_ , of course," she repeated for about the tenth time since they'd entered the Great Hall.

Draco smiled to himself. What a nervous little flower.

He couldn't help but notice that, as they walked, many of the students were more interested in the fact that Harry Potter was among them, than anything else. They were first-year Hogwarts students, and all they cared about was the celebrity walking beside them! Ridiculous. And he was surely enjoying the attention. _What a tool_ , thought Draco.

They finally reached the front and gathered before a stool on which lay a shabby old wizard's hat.

"When I call your name," announced Professor McGonagall, turning to face them, "You will step forth. I will place the sorting hat on your head and you will be sorted into your houses."

She then unrolled a long bit of parchment and began to call out names. One by one, students stepped forth on shaking legs, sat on the stool, and then hopped off as the Hat bellowed their rightful house. Each table row cheered when they got a new house member. A little while into the ceremony, Draco grabbed a hold of Hermione's hand and squeezed it gently. She jumped at the touch but then gave him a nervous smile. This had to be the biggest thing she'd ever done. Poor Hermione.

The Ravenclaw table cheered as Anthony Goldstein hopped off the stool and joined the table. Draco watched the staff table intently as the ceremony proceeded. Snape was looking rather grim but he did not even look in Draco's direction once, which Draco found to be a bit odd. He eyed Hagrid, then the shabby looking wizard sitting on Dumbledore's side, and finally Dumbledore himself. He looked like a man in power. He had importance written all over him as he watched the ceremony curiously over his half-moon spectacles.

"Goyle, Gregory!" called Professor McGonagall.

The plump boy made his way over to the stool and almost stumbled trying to sit on it. As soon as the hat hit his head, it bellowed "SLYTHERIN!" causing an eruption of cheers from the table to the far left. This brought Draco's attention to that side of the room entirely. The Slytherins all sat the same way—with their chins up, watching the ceremony with boredom. They of course cheered whenever a new member of their house joined them, but otherwise they looked so above the ceremony. Draco understood completely. It must be boring to sit and watch the same thing over and over every year.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Alright. This was it.

"Don't worry," Draco managed to whisper to her before she let go of his arm and slowly made her way to the front.

She hopped up on the stool and waited as Professor McGonagall placed the hat on her busy hair.

Draco thought it was kind of cute how nervous she was. Though, he knew there was nothing to be worried about. He'd waited for this moment ever since he'd found out she was a witch and was coming to Hogwarts too. It was the most wonderful thing, knowing that he already had a friend here. And she would be great too. They would have so much fun together, staying up late all the time and playing games and studying and discussing books—pretty much what they'd done in the summer, but full-time. It would be just what he'd waited for his whole life. It would be great. It would be—

"GRYFFINDOR!"

* * *

Hermione hopped off the stool, gave the hat back to Professor McGonagall, and made her way over to the Gryffindor table. Just before she'd reached it, she met Draco's eyes and gave him an apologetic smile. Though, she did not seem sad for much longer because the loud cheers from the table sure seemed to cheer her up. It was only until Daphne Greengrass was sorted into Slytherin that Draco finally felt his heart beat again.

Neville Longbottom made it into Gryffindor and next, Draco heard his own name being called. He remained frozen however, unable to move his feet. Professor McGonagall had to call his name a second time before he snapped out of his trance and found his feet making their way over to the stool. Though, Draco found he didn't care what the Hat had to say as it was placed on his head and covered his eyes completely.

"Why, hello there, Malfoy," said the Hat. "It's been too long since I've seen a Malfoy. How's your father doing, I wonder?"

"Just get on with it," grunted Draco.

"Oh but we didn't get a chance to chat!" exclaimed the Hat. "You know, your mother was a kind one but her sister was truly historic to this school. She did some things I hadn't seen in years. I wonder if you've inherited the Black gene and will be amazing us with your talents as well."

"Hurry up," muttered Draco.

"Very well," said the Hat. "SLYTHERIN!"

Professor McGonagall took the hat and Draco hurried over to the cheering table, ignoring the many congratulations that he got. He sunk into the first empty seat he could find and stared at the silver goblet in front of him for the rest of the Sorting Ceremony. Only when Harry Potter was placed into Gryffindor did Draco finally look up, and it was only because the hall had erupted into a deafening cheer that had nearly frightened the life out of him. Frustrated, he went back to staring at the goblet, and kept his eyes firmly away from Hermione, who was seated way over on the other side of the hall.

The last to be sorted was Blaise Zabini, who made Slytherin. After that, Professor McGonagall put the Sorting Hat away and Dumbledore stood up and announced dinner, making food magically appear on all the tables. Everyone suddenly became very excited and proceeded to stuff their faces with all the beautiful, colourful foods they could find. Originally, Draco had been looking forward to the feast. His parents couldn't afford delicious delicacies and Hogwarts was often prized for the delicious meals it provided. But at the moment, Draco wasn't feeling very hungry. He contented himself with a glass of pumpkin juice and sat, watching the others amidst their conversations, not daring to look over at the Gryffindor table where he was sure he would find Hermione looking completely and utterly crushed. He didn't think he'd be able to stand seeing her like that, so he avoided the table altogether.

Beside him, Blaise Zabini was telling some scandalous story to a group of boys around him. Millicent Bulstrode was expressing her worries to Daphne Greengrass regarding the location of the Slytherin dormitories. And two plump looking boys who were seated across from Draco were eyeing him with curiosity (meanwhile stuffing their faces).

"Oy, what's up with you?" asked the taller of the two (Goyle something?).

"Nothing," muttered Draco, continuing to stare at his empty plate.

"Aren't you going to eat?" asked the other one.

"You really should eat," said the first one. "Breakfast is not until tomorrow."

"No kidding," said Draco, rolling his eyes at the pair of them.

This is exactly why Hermione belonged there, in Slytherin, right next to him. He could not stand people who were mentally challenged or too stupid to carry on. He needed to be around smart people, but he also hated how cocky they could be which is why he was relieved to be far from Ravenclaw.

"The number one rule for us Slytherins is keeping up a good reputation in public," said the prefect who was sitting two or three seats away from Draco. "We don't show the other houses if there is something going on. You have a problem with a house mate? Take it up with them on your own time. To the rest of Hogwarts, you will appear as best buds. Got that?"

The surrounding students nodded in understanding. Draco concentrated hard on keeping his eyes away from the Gryffindor table.

"Maybe you should eat something anyway?" said the boy across from him again.

"Look, just leave me alone, alright?" snapped Draco.

The two boys grew very quiet instantly. Though, it was not for long. The next minute, they were badgering him again about food. Draco stared at them with disbelief.

"What are your names again?" he demanded.

"Crabbe," said the shorter one.

"Goyle," said the taller one.

"Tell me something, Crabbe and Goyle," said Draco, "Are you always this annoying?"

"Pretty much," they said together.

Draco frowned.

"Do you two know each other or something?"

"Yeah, our parents are friends," said Crabbe. "We've known each other since childhood."

"We're still _in_ childhood, stupid," said Goyle.

"Right, that's what I meant," said Crabbe. "In childhood, we know each other."

Draco nodded enthusiastically, not trying at all to keep the sarcasm from his face. He continued to stare at his silver goblet and tried to drown out the conversations going on around him, but didn't manage to.

"Excuse me, prefect boy," said Millicent Bulstrode. "Who is our head of house?"

"Professor Snape," answered the fifth year.

"Ooh, what's he like?!" exclaimed the few first years that were listening in.

"He's mad frightening," said the fifth year, worrying the students a great deal. "But _us_ , he likes." The students breathed together.

"Did you happen to catch a glimpse of Harry Potter?" Crabbe asked Goyle.

"Yeah, he's in Gryffindor!" said Goyle.

"I can't believe he's come to Hogwarts," said the girl sitting on Goyle's other side. "I'd have thought his parents would think it was too substandard for him."

At this, Draco's eyes shot up at the girl and he eyed her with fascination. She had long, dark hair and a pale face. She was talking and carefully slicing up a steak at the same time. Draco did not remember seeing her at the Sorting Ceremony. She noticed him staring at her and gave him a questioning look. He did not respond.

"What?" she pressed. "What are you looking at?"

"N-nothing," said Draco, jumping out of his trance. "Don't get flattered, you're not that interesting to look at."

"Oh, is that right?" said the girl.

Draco bit his lip.

"What's your name again?

"Pansy," she said. "But hey, it's not like we haven't just done the Sorting Ceremony and heard all of each other's names or anything like that."

Beside her, Millicent giggled at the joke. Crabbe and Goyle stared, apparently confused. But Draco met her eyes again and smirked.

"Touché."

After the feast, Professor Dumbledore stood up to say a few words regarding when Quidditch tryouts would begin, where not to go, and what the caretaker (Mr. Filch) expected of the students that year, regarding cleanliness. Then, it was time to go to the common rooms. The prefect boy (who introduced himself as Samuel, or Sam for short) led the first year Slytherins out of the Great Hall and headed for the dungeons while the other houses headed for the marble staircase.

"This is the most direct path to the common room," said Sam as he led the small group through the slightly darkened corridor. They soon reached the password-protected door and Sam let them in with that week's password ( _Pureblood_ ). "Gather around here please," he instructed them as they entered the large common room. Draco looked around.

The place was rather cozy. There were couches everywhere and small study tables in every corner. The floors were carpeted completely and on the side was a large fireplace with emerald green flames inside. The whole of the common room was somewhat dark green, which Draco already knew to be Slytherin's colour.

"Right then," said Sam. "This is your place to be when you are not in class or anywhere on the Hogwarts grounds. The boys' dormitories are over on that side and the girls' are on this side." He pointed to the two separate doors on opposite ends of the room. "Mail delivery is every morning at breakfast. Tomorrow, you will also get your timetables at breakfast. The Bloody Baron is our ghost. If you don't bother him, he won't haunt you. He's an unpleasant sort so try to stay out of his way and you'll be fine. Any questions?"

After Sam was done with his little speech, Draco headed up the stairs and occupied the first bed he could find. Crabbe and Goyle followed him and occupied the beds on his sides. Kicking his suitcase out of frustration once, Draco changed into his pajamas and pulled the curtains around his bed. He laid his head on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. He could hear the boys arguing in the dormitory (Blaise had also joined) but soon, they quieted down. Thank the lord.

It wasn't long before he could hear faint snoring. Relieved, he pulled the curtains open and crept out of bed and across the dormitory, quiet so as not to wake anyone. He tiptoed down the stairs and into the empty common room. He stood for a moment, admiring the coziness of the room, and then found a seat on the couch right by the fireplace. Once he was seated, he noticed the large portrait of Salazar Slytherin that hung above the fireplace. He looked so very important and prominent. Draco wondered what he'd been like in his lifetime.

But no matter what Draco set his mind to, it came back to one thing and one thing only: Hermione. Poor Hermione. She was probably crying herself to sleep at this very moment, over in some Gryffindor dormitory. And especially after all the promises that Draco had made to her about how they would be in the same house… it was just very extremely frustrating, that's all.

He didn't exactly remember how long he'd stayed down in the common room. All he remembered was thinking back to that summer and how he'd been so sure that Hermione would be in Slytherin with him. What had gone wrong? How could he have possibly been so far off? Any excitement that he might have had about arriving at Hogwarts a few hours ago was long gone. He was most certainly not looking forward to tomorrow, or any day after that. Not like this. This was not what he'd wanted. And now, he wished he had never come in the first place.

* * *

 **Thanks and please review!**


	5. Year 1: Friends and Foes

**Author's Note: ****Hope you enjoy and next update will be sometime next week or the week after if I get too busy. I have a birthday coming up, an essay to research, and another fanfic to update. Thanks for your patience!**

 **Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks**

* * *

CHAPTER 5: YEAR 1—FRIENDS AND FOES

* * *

 _Harry_

* * *

He woke the next morning to the sounds of scrambling about the dormitory. Rubbing his eyes, Harry reached for his glasses and yawned. Dean, Seamus, and Ron were hurrying to put their uniform on.

"Come on, come on, come on!" cried Ron, who was struggling to put his right shoe on his left foot.

"What's up?" said Harry, sleepily. "Where's Nev?"

"He woke us half an hour ago," explained Dean, who was stuffing his Potions book into his bag. "But we fell back asleep after he left."

"What time is it?" wondered Harry.

"Almost time for class!" cried Ron.

"What?!" exclaimed Harry, and he rolled off of the bed and onto the floor.

"Yeah, we missed breakfast!" said Seamus, who was combing his stubborn hair with great difficulty.

"We didn't get our schedules!" said Harry, already halfway through putting on his own uniform.

Once the boys were ready, they practically flew down the stairs and climbed out of the portrait hole of the common room. They darted through the halls, looking frantically for that big place called the Great Hall. By the time they finally found it, the last of the students were leaving for class. Harry looked around for Professor McGonagall, but she was nowhere in sight.

"Great, just great," he muttered. "We don't have our timetables."

"That's it, we're done for!" cried Ron.

"Well, there's not much we can do," said Harry, looking around again. "We'll just have to wait until the bell so we can go find McGonagall. She's probably already teaching a class now."

"You mean miss an entire class?" said Seamus, nervously.

"Yeah, why not?" shrugged Harry. "It's only the first day. Come on, let's go outside."

And so, the boys went out through some side doors and headed over to the courtyard. Luckily, it was a nice day out. They found a spot in the grass and sat down, enjoying the fresh air and the sun. They talked about Quidditch, first impressions with teachers, and what a shame it was that they'd missed their first ever breakfast at Hogwarts. Soon, the bell sounded and students descended from various classrooms. Feeling bored, the boys got to their feet and embarked on their search for Professor McGonagall.

She stared at them with a stern look as they stood before her desk, looking shameful.

"…so as you can see, professor, we really are sorry," concluded Harry.

Professor McGonagall glared at him from behind her desk, her arms folded in front of her.

"W-we're really sorry," offered Seamus. "Honest!"

Dean nodded vigorously.

"Mr. Longbottom did not have a problem coming to class on time," she observed.

"He woke us but we fell asleep again," said Harry.

"Very well, Mr. Potter," said McGonagall, sighing. "I will not deduct points for this incident, but this _is_ the first and last time that I do this and _only_ because it's the first day."

The boys nodded in understanding and she handed out their schedules and wrote them notes for their absence from their first ever potions lesson.

"You better hope for dear life that Professor Snape does not give you detentions," said McGonagall as the boys moved from out of her office.

"Snape?" said Harry, turning to look at her. "We have _Snape?_ "

"Professor Snape and Professor Slughorn are the potions masters at Hogwarts," said McGonagall. "This year, Professor Slughorn is teaching the Slytherins and Ravenclaws, while Professor Snape is taking the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs."

"It doesn't make much sense that the Head of Slytherin is not teaching his own, does it?" said Ron.

"That's not the way it works here at Hogwarts, Mr. Weasley," said McGonagall. "Now, off you go boys."

They left her office and began to look for their classroom. As they walked, Ron's stomach growled noisily.

"Sorry," he repeated for the seventh time as they turned the corner to the Entrance Hall.

"We still have ten minutes. Come on, let's get something to eat before class," suggested Harry.

"Yeah, how exactly?" said Dean.

"The kitchens, of course," said Harry, simply.

"Oh," said Ron, as though it were completely obvious.

Smirking, Harry led the way to where Sirius had once described the kitchens were. They found them in no time and were pleased to also find out that the Hufflepuff common room was just near them as well, as Sirius had promised. Checking around the corners for lurkers, the boys let themselves into the kitchens.

The fresh smell of home-cooked meat pies and fried vegetables filled the kitchens as the elves worked tirelessly to prepare the meals for lunchtime. Harry elbowed Ron playfully, whose jaw had dropped at the sight of all the food. Dean and Seamus were also looking around vigorously.

"W-we shouldn't be here," said Dean.

However, he did not look at all ready to leave just yet.

"Yeah," agreed Seamus, who also remained frozen on the spot. "Bad idea."

One of the elves finally noticed the four boys standing at the kitchen entrance and approached them with a broad smile. He stopped before them and bowed low, his pointed nose almost touching the floor.

"Dobby is here to serve kind sirs," squeaked the elf. "How can he be of service today?"

"Hi Dobby," said Harry, smiling. "It's nice to meet you."

"And Dobby is most happy to meet Harry Potter at last!" exclaimed the elf. "Dobby will do anything for the boy who vanquished the Dark Lord."

"Well, we missed breakfast this morning and we were just hoping you could whip us something before our next class," said Harry.

"Yes, sir, of course sir!" exclaimed the elf, and within a matter of seconds, the four boys were chowing down on a very large meat pie.

Once they were done, the boys bid farewell to the elves and retreated to their first ever Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. The Gryffindors were meant to have it with the Slytherins, and Harry was very pleased to already be acquainted with the teacher in charge.

"Welcome," said Moony, once the students entered the class. "Take your seats."

"Where?" said Hermione, who was at the front of the group. "All of our other teachers have arranged seating plans."

"Anywhere you like," said Moony, smiling at her.

Harry instantly led Ron and Neville to the very front and took their seats. Hermione was bewildered and resorted to the seat behind them, the blond-haired boy from Slytherin at her heels.

"How are you doing, Harry?" said Moony, as the rest found their seats.

"Great, you?" said Harry.

"Good, good," said Moony, nodding along.

"Are you sure?" said Harry, whose eyes landed on the few scars and scratches along Moony's neck. Moony fixed his scarf around his cloak to cover them and smiled at Harry.

"We'll talk after class," he said. Harry nodded. "Welcome, first-years, to Defense Against the Dark Arts. In this class, you will learn all sorts of defensive spells, countercurses, and jinxes. However, the theoretical approach is as crucial as the practical. Therefore, for your first year, I am afraid we will focus more on the theoretical." The class groaned at this news, forcing a greater smile on Moony's face. "Not to worry; I have always prized the practical more. I feel sure we will have fun in this class."

"Please sir," said Hermione. "What kinds of things will we be learning? I've already read the textbook so I want to know which parts to review."

At this, the class burst out laughing. Harry turned around in his seat and Hermione met his eyes.

"You're one of those, aren't you?"

"One of what?" she asked him.

"Book nerds," said Harry.

"Hey!" said Neville, beside him. Harry smirked at him.

"That's fine," said the blond-haired boy suddenly. "It must be too much for the Boy Who Conquered...seeing a person who is actually smart."

At this, Hermione smiled.

"Say, exactly what are you implying?" wondered Harry.

"Oh I'm sorry," said the boy. "Were the words too big for you?"

Harry opened his mouth to say something but Hermione got there first.

"Stop it, Draco. Just ignore him."

"Yes, _Draco_ , I advise you listen to her," said Harry.

He did not like this kid one bit. He clearly had many issues.

"I am sorry you went to such great lengths," Moony said to Hermione once the class settled down. "But it _is_ very good to be prepared, Miss…?"

"Granger, sir," said Hermione, proudly.

"Take five points for Gryffindor," said Moony. "Now, we will be starting off with the usual gargoyles, ghosts and hags, and will move on to werewolf bites…"

Harry turned around again and gave Hermione the thumbs-up. She stared at him with a confused expression, but quickly resumed copying down Moony's every word. Her friend glared at him, causing Harry's grin to widen.

After the lesson, Harry urged Ron and Neville to go on without him. He needed to talk to Moony. Urgently.

Once the classroom was empty, Moony sat on his desk and smiled at Harry.

"How are you, Moony? I mean, really?" said Harry, worriedly.

"Tired," Moony admitted. "I haven't been sleeping much." Seeing the worried look on Harry's face, he smiled quickly and fixed his scarf again. "It's alright, son. It's just one of the drawbacks of being a werewolf."

"I'm sorry," said Harry. "I wish there was something I could do."

"There is," said Moony, smiling. "As you probably know, the parents of students would not be too thrilled to learn that one of their teachers is...well...not human. I was hoping you could help me keep it a secret."

"Yeah, for sure!" said Harry.

Moony smiled.

"Thank you. Now go on or you'll be late."

"Okay," said Harry, grabbing his bag. "I guess I'll see you later then, Moony."

"Bye, Harry."

Harry took his time getting to his next lesson (Transfiguration? Or was it Herbology…). He knew he'd promised his mother detailed accounts of his Hogwarts life, including an update on how Moony was doing. But he really wasn't doing well and if Lily found out, she'd floo over to Hogwarts in an instant. Harry couldn't have his mother around him while he was trying to build his reputation. Telling his father was also risky because he couldn't keep a secret to save his life…at least not from Lily, that is. So Sirius was Harry's only choice. He made a mental note to write to him that night.

The rest of the day passed fairly quickly and soon Harry, Ron, and Neville were sitting in their pajamas in front of the fireplace of the Gryffindor common room. It was pretty late but some students were still in the common room, including Hermione who was sitting in the corner, reading a massive book. Harry had a roll of parchment in his lap and a few on the table in front of him. Ron was making a card castle and Neville was holding Trevor in his lap.

Harry tried to concentrate on his letter but it was exceedingly difficult, considering every few minutes Lavender Brown waved at him from the other side of the common room, and giggled girlishly. Smirking, Harry turned back to the letter and frowned:

 _Dear mum and dad,_

 _Hogwarts is as every bit wonderful as you always told me. I've been sorted into Gryffindor, just like you. I'm sure Moony... I mean_ _Remus has already told you. He's doing good. Defense is my favourite class. Neville and I are sticking together, with our new friend Ron Weasley. His father works at the ministry too, dad._

Ron yawned loudly, causing the house of cards to topple down on the table. Shrugging, he got up and stretched dramatically.

"I'm off to bed," he said. "Night."

"See ya," said Harry, bending over the parchment to write.

 _Hedwig is also enjoying her time here. It's only been a day but it's already amazing. Love you both and miss you lots. I'll write again after tea with Hagrid next week._

 _Harry_

"I think I'll go to bed too," said Neville, also standing up. "Good night."

"Bye," said Harry, without looking up at him.

He stared at the letter for a couple of seconds and then decided that it was the best draft.

"It's supposed to be 'well'," said a voice behind him.

He turned around. Hermione was standing over his shoulder, holding _Hogwarts: A History_ close to her chest.

"Sorry?" said Harry.

"He's not doing _good_ ," she clarified, pointing at the letter in his lap. "He's doing _well_."

Harry scowled and turned back around in his seat.

"Whatever."

"Sorry," said Hermione, quickly. "But I just thought maybe you should try being more grammatical."

"And maybe you should try being less bossy," Harry muttered.

"Whatever," repeated Hermione, also turning to leave.

"You know," said Harry suddenly, turning around in his seat again. "You're not the only one around here who knows stuff. Maybe you should stop acting like you are."

"Maybe you should pick up a book and learn some manners," said Hermione.

"You mean like _Hogwarts: A History_?" said Harry. "Already beat you to it. Twice."

He jumped from the couch, grabbing the letters he'd written, and walked right by Hermione and up the stairs to the boys' dormitory, enjoying the look of bewilderment on her face.

All the others were fast asleep when Harry entered the dormitory. He kicked off his shoes, took off his glasses, and got into bed, turning to face his bedside table where Sirius' letter was staring right back at him:

 _Dear Padfoot,_

 _I love it here. I absolutely love it here. I'm in Gryffindor, but I'm sure dad will have told you by the time you get this. Where are you travelling at the moment? Tell me all about it. I miss you loads._

 _Mum told me to update her on Remus but you know how she worries. And dad can't keep a secret to save his life. So I'm telling you. Moony is really not doing good...I mean_ _'well'. Besides the usual scratches and scars, he's not sleeping. And he looks absolutely miserable. You should reach out to him or see if something—anything—can be done about his condition. It sucks._

 _The Sorting Hat mentioned you, you know. It said that your whole family had been in Slytherin but it chose to place you in Gryffindor. I guess I was a little worried there for a while that the opposite thing would happen to me and that I would be placed in Slytherin. But it all turned out good well. Anyway, it made me wonder…I know I asked the Sorting Hat to put me in Gryffindor. Did you do that too?_

 _Lots of love,_

 _Harry_

 _PS. Thanks for telling me about the kitchens; you're right about the house elves, they're really nice_

The next morning, Harry, Ron, Dean, and Seamus woke up on time and joined the rest of the school for breakfast in the Great Hall. They ate stacks upon stacks of pancakes until they were absolutely full. Sighing happily, Ron turned to Harry.

"Let's go on another adventure," he said. "Who cares about Potions anyway?"

"I do," said Harry.

Ron stared at him. Harry smirked.

"Sorry, but I have my mum who's really stubborn when it comes to marks. I can't just go cutting class whenever I want."

"Fine," said Ron. "I just really don't want to see that teacher… Professor whatever-his-name-was."

"Snape?" said Harry.

"Yeah, that's the one," said Ron. "He scares the life out of me."

"He does have an interesting reputation around the school," said Neville.

"I wish we got that old Slughorn bloke instead," said Ron, sadly.

"My mum was best friends with Snape when she was little," said Harry. "Dad and Sirius really didn't like him."

"Yeah, I can see that happening," said Neville. "Come on guys, let's go. He really doesn't like it if you're late."

Ron groaned.

They arrived in the right classroom three minutes later, and Harry and Ron were instantly stopped at the door.

"Nice of you to join us, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley," said Professor Snape.

"Hello," said Harry.

"That is all you have to say for yourself?" said Snape. "Hello?"

"Good morning?" tried Harry.

Beside him, Ron let out a laugh which died away instantly, by the look on Snape's cold face.

"5 points from Gryffindor," he said. "Find your seats."

Groaning, the two made their way over to the back of the dungeon. Neville was sitting at the front with Hermione.

"As I was saying before the Boy Who Conquered decided to grace us with his presence," said Snape, forcing Harry to glare at him, "I don't care if your classmates say they're learning easier material with Professor Slughorn. This is my class and last time I checked, _I_ make the rules around here, not you."

Ron gave Harry an "I told you so" look and rested his head on the desk.

The rest of the lesson was quite brutal. Snape mentioned the Boy Who Conquered whenever he could and for most of the hour, all eyes were on Harry. He was hating the man more and more. How _could_ his mother have ever been friends with such a tool?

At the end of the lesson, Snape called Harry, Ron, Dean, and Seamus over to his desk. Hermione tripped over a desk and her books flew out of her hands, causing a commotion among the few students who laughed. Neville bent down to help her pick them up.

"I shall expect you four in my office at 9 o'clock this evening," Snape told Harry and the group.

"How are we supposed to get that paper done for tomorrow?" said Seamus.

"I suppose you won't be sleeping tonight at all then, Mr. Finnigan," said Snape, coldly. "And I expect you to address me as _sir_."

"Sorry," mumbled Seamus.

"Whatever," said Snape. "9 o'clock. Do not be late or it will be another detention."

"Right," said Harry. "Well, we'll be off now, _sir._ "

He and the boys turned to leave but Snape stopped them instantly. Out of the corner of his eyes, Harry distinctly saw the blond-haired boy standing in the doorway and smiling as he watched the scene. Hermione thanked Neville for his help and joined her friend at the door.

"Thanks for waiting for me," Harry heard her say. Neville stuck around in the back, waiting for Harry and Ron.

"I don't care if you are the Boy Who Conquered, Mr. Potter, I will not tolerate being spoken to this way. You should take a page out of your mother's book and learn some manners. I don't want another James Potter in my class."

"Yeah, he warned me about you, sir," said Harry. "He told me you'd make Hogwarts very interesting indeed."

Snape leaned forwards.

"I have news for you, Mr. Potter," he said, malevolently. "Your years at Hogwarts are going to be quite memorable. I will see to it myself."

The next month flew by in the blink of an eye, and soon, Harry and Ron were among the most popular in their grade. All of their classmates wanted to be friends with the Boy Who Conquered. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil still giggled every time Harry walked by. They offered to take notes for him in class and always had a spare quill or piece of parchment. Harry was living the dream, worry-free.

He kept Ron around of course. He was a laugh. Together, they went on various adventures throughout the castle, often landing themselves in trouble for staying out past curfew or arriving late to class. They didn't dare to arrive late to Potions again. That was their one and only exception. With their popularity intact and reputations whole, they felt absolutely no fear in trying out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Because Ron had no broom of his own yet, Harry lent him his Sweepstakes (which he'd successfully snuck into Hogwarts) and used the Sirius-recommended Nimbus 2000 himself. The captain, Oliver Wood, was most impressed with Harry's speed and Ron's instincts. Together, they wow'd the entire team and heard back from them fairly quickly.

"Congratulations!" said Neville, smiling, when Harry told him the news at breakfast next day. "Knew you guys could do it."

"Thanks," grinned Harry and Ron.

"They said I'm the best seeker Hogwarts has seen since my dad," said Harry, proudly.

"You are," agreed Neville. "And what about you, Ron? What position are you playing?"

"Chaser," said Ron. "I prefer keeper but that's Oliver Wood's position and he's captain."

"He's got to graduate at some point though, right?" said Harry.

"Yeah," said Ron. "Are you sure you won't try out, Neville? They still need a couple of players."

"I thought they already had everyone," said Harry, before Neville could answer. "Fred and George secured the beaters spots long ago, right?"

"Yeah, there's no replacing them," grinned Ron.

"Yeah," said Neville, shrugging. "I don't have that kind of time to practice anyway."

"What are you talking about?" said Harry. "What else could you possibly have to do?"

"Homework," said Neville, gesturing at _Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ in his hands.

"All you ever do is study," observed Harry. "Even Sirius said that you should try to have some fun."

"Sirius is not my Godfather," said Neville, quietly. "James is. And he recommended I do what makes me most comfortable here. And that's studying."

"Well, it doesn't matter how hard or how long you study," said Ron, sadly. " _She'll_ beat you anyway."

The other two followed his gaze and landed on Hermione, who was sitting with Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil a few seats away from their group. Hermione had three books open in front of her and was feverishly copying down notes without any pauses for breaks. Harry and Ron sighed together.

"There's nothing wrong with being studious," said Harry, noticing Neville's look of disapproval. "But there has to be a limit to everything."

"Yeah," agreed Neville, who was also watching Hermione with curiosity.

"So anyway," said Ron, turning to Harry. "Professor Lupin is out sick again today. Should we go to Defense?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "Yeah, we should go."

"Blimey," said Ron. "You're willing to skip any other class except for Defense and Potions!"

"Remus is a family friend," said Harry. "It'd be disrespectful to skip his class. And Snape was a friend of my mum's. I promised her I'd try to be good to him."

"Git," said Ron, forming another smile on Harry's face. "It must be weird though…you know, having one of your teachers over at your house all the time."

"Not when it's Remus who you're talking about," said Harry. "Now come on, we should go."

He stood up, threw his bag over his shoulder, and left. Though, not before he'd had a chance to overhear Ron whisper to Neville, "I can't quite figure him out. He likes adventure. He likes being bad. But he also likes being good. I don't get it."

"Harry can be mischievous but he's loyal to those he cares about," said Neville. "That's what makes him so great. He knows when he's gone too far."

Harry smiled to himself.

* * *

 _Draco_

* * *

Draco awoke on his first ever day at Hogwarts, feeling more miserable than he had any day back at home. This was because the aftermath of what had happened the night before was slowly sinking into his head. He and Hermione were in two completely different houses. Nothing would ever be the same again.

It was too early to go down to breakfast, and the others in the dormitory were still asleep. Draco however was not tired anymore so he dressed and headed out of the dungeons. He stepped out into the cool morning and breathed some of that fresh air. It was getting very chilly already. Winter was definitely on the way.

About an hour later, he headed over to Gryffindor tower. He found the infamous portrait of the Fat Lady instantly and sat right next to it with his copy of _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ propped open in his lap. Every once in a while, the portrait hole slid open, letting out a few chattering Gryffindors. They all gave him puzzled looks of course, which he dismissed. Hermione was sure to be out any minute.

Indeed, she came out soon. Though, she was with that toad boy from the day before. Draco closed his book and jumped to his feet. When Hermione finally noticed him, she ran to give him a hug.

"Hello," said the toad boy again. "Draco, right?"

"Mhm," said Draco, over Hermione's shoulder.

She let him go and smiled.

"What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you, of course."

Hermione grinned.

"You can go ahead, Neville, I'll see you there."

"Okay, I'll catch up with you guys later then," said Neville kindly, and he was off.

Hermione turned to Draco.

"Oh I'm so sorry it turned out this way," she said. "I really hoped it wouldn't."

"I'm the one who's sorry," said Draco. "I shouldn't have gotten your hopes up without any guarantee. But I was just so sure. I was so sure that—"

"I know," smiled Hermione. "But we can still be friends, right?"

"Of course," said Draco. "We can still meet up whenever we can. Like this. I can wait for you here every morning if you'd like."

"That's not necessary," said Hermione. "We're getting our timetables this morning. Let's see what classes we have together and go from there."

"Alright," said Draco. "Come on, let's go eat."

They stopped at the front of the Great Hall. One was looking at the Slytherin table and one was looking at the Gryffindor table.

"W-where shall we sit?" said Draco.

"I promised Neville we'd eat together," said Hermione. "Will you sit with us?"

"No," said Draco, quickly. "I m-mean…no, that's fine. I don't really fancy sitting at the Gryffindor table. Just tell Neville next time. Come on, come sit with me."

"I don't really fancy sitting at the Slytherin table," said Hermione, defiantly. "I'm sorry but I'm a Gryffindor. I want to get to know some of these people."

"Right," said Draco. "Because you need more friends?"

"No, because I want them to like me," said Hermione. "You of all people know how much that's been a problem for me in the past."

Draco sighed.

"Fine, I'll catch up with you later."

"Okay. Thanks, Draco."

She kissed him on the cheek and then hopped over to where the toad boy was sitting and began talking to him. Draco watched her for a few seconds and then marched over to the corner of the Slytherin table and sat down too. Soon, the hall was packed with students. Crabbe and Goyle sat across from Draco again and began to fill their plates.

"Why aren't you eating?" Goyle wondered, noticing Draco's empty plate.

"Not hungry," said Draco, simply, his eyes still on the Gryffindor table.

"Do you hate food or somethin'?" said Crabbe.

"No, I'm just not hungry," replied Draco.

Professor McGonagall came around each of the house tables a little while later and handed out the timetables. Draco stared at his blankly. Professor Slughorn, the former Head of House for Slytherin, was his Potions teacher. Great. Now he wasn't even going to get to see Snape. But then, Draco smiled. The Slytherins were meant to have Transfiguration, Charms, _and_ Defense against the Dark Arts with the Gryffindors. Feeling suddenly motivated to eat, Draco began to butter a slice of toast.

At the end of breakfast, Crabbe and Goyle followed him out of the Great Hall and to their very first lesson; Herbology. It was a painful hour and a half to endure with the Ravenclaws, especially since Draco detested the subject already. He didn't care what puffapods were or that they contained pink pods holding shining beans. He was aching to go to Defense Against the Dark Arts so he could see what the subject was all about…and be with his friend Hermione of course.

The hour seemed to drag on but finally, at long last, the bells sounded throughout the castle grounds. Draco jumped from his seat, collected his book and darted out the door. He found the right classroom very quickly and waited. Soon, the other students (and Hermione) arrived and Professor Lupin opened the doors and let them in.

"Welcome," he said. "Take your seats."

"Where, professor?" said Hermione. "All of our other teachers have arranged seating plans."

"Anywhere you like," said Professor Lupin, smiling at her.

Hermione gave Draco an encouraging smile and led the way to the front, only to be blocked by Harry Potter and his mates. They took the seats that Hermione was headed for. Frustrated, she settled for the seats just behind them, though Draco would have been fine with sitting at the back. Nevertheless, he joined her and they got their books out and waited.

"Welcome, first years, to Defense against the Dark Arts," said Professor Lupin. "In this class, you will learn all sorts of defensive spells, countercurses, and jinxes. However, the theoretical approach is as crucial as the practical. Therefore, for your first year, I am afraid we will focus more on the theoretical."

Draco noticed Hermione taking down furious notes and smirked.

"You know you don't have to copy this, right?" he whispered to her.

"Couldn't hurt," she whispered back.

"Not to worry," continued Professor Lupin. "I have always prized the practical more. I feel sure we will have fun in this class."

"Please, sir," said Hermione, raising her hand in the air. "What kinds of things will we be learning? I've already read the textbook so I want to know which parts to review."

At this, the class burst into wild laughter. Draco glared at them all. In front of him, Harry Potter turned around in his seat and smirked stupidly at Hermione.

"You're one of those, aren't you?"

"One of what?" she asked him.

"Book nerds," said Potter.

"Hey!" said the toad boy, beside him.

"That's fine," interjected Draco. "It must be too much for the Boy Who Conquered…seeing a person who is actually smart."

At this, Hermione smiled.

"Say, exactly what are you implying?" said Potter, this time to Draco.

Draco smirked.

"Oh, I'm sorry, were the words too big for you?"

Potter turned a furious red. He opened his mouth to say something but Hermione suddenly placed her hand on Draco's.

"Stop it, Draco. Just ignore him."

"Fine," he muttered.

"Yes, _Draco_ , I advise you listen to her," said Potter.

Draco scowled at him. He did not like this kid one bit. He clearly was too full of himself.

"I am sorry you went to such great lengths," said Professor Lupin to Hermione once the class settled down. "But it _is_ very good to be prepared, Miss…?"

"Granger, sir," said Hermione, proudly.

"Take five points for Gryffindor," said Professor Lupin, earning Hermione a few cheers from the Gryffindors in the class.

Potter turned around again and gave Hermione the thumbs-up. She stared at him with a confused expression, but quickly resumed copying down the professor's every word. Meanwhile, Draco glared at Potter, causing his grin to widen. Exactly who did he think he was?

Draco was not as lucky with the seating arrangements in Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall was very strict and so she seated the students alphabetically, landing Draco fairly far from Hermione and right next to Potter. Great. In Charms though, Professor Flitwick let them pick their own seats so Draco and Hermione occupied two in the front row. The rest of the day was quite unmemorable. The students were assigned lots of homework and ate meals. Nothing much happened.

When it was time for his Potions lesson, Draco grudgingly made his way over to the dungeons where Professor Slughorn's classroom was, just across the hall from Snape's.

Slughorn was the teacher that everyone (students or staff) avoided at Hogwarts. Professor Flitwick particularly found him annoying. And for Draco, this was punishment. He'd been looking forward to Potions with Snape, not Slughorn. Now, he would have to suffer through one useless year in which he would barely learn anything. He was sure of it.

"I thought we would start off with the forgetfulness potion," said Slughorn once the class settled down and opened up their books. "It's fairly easy and definitely useful."

"We don't want easy," Draco blurted out.

Beside him, Crabbe and Goyle nodded in agreement.

"Do not be in a hurry to learn, my dear boy," said Slughorn. "You are, after all, only first years. There is plenty of time for everything—easy or hard."

"Yeah, and Professor Snape is going to teach his students far more, making _us_ fall behind with _you_ ," said Draco.

Slughorn stared at him.

"W-why don't we just…continue where we left off, Mister…?"

"Malfoy."

"Ah," said Slughorn. "Yes, Malfoy. Very well, Mr. Malfoy. Why don't you just let me go on with my lesson?" He did not wait for Draco to respond but dived right into the functions of the forgetfulness potion, all of which Draco already knew like the back of his hand. He crossed his arms and refused to take notes for the rest of class, as a sign of protest. It really was unfair that Snape was not his teacher this year.

When dinner was drawing to a close and most of the students had already cleared out of the Great Hall, Draco approached the Gryffindor table and sat right next to Hermione, ignoring the strange looks he got from the few Gryffindors that were still there.

"Hey," she said, brightly. "How was the rest of your day?"

"Boring," said Draco. "Do you want to go to the library to do homework?"

"Yes absolutely," she said, pleasing Draco.

They found a table to themselves and spread their books open. Hermione ruffled through her notes while Draco lazily flipped through the pages of _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_.

"I'm sorry again about how things turned out," said Hermione. "I really didn't want it to be like this."

"Yeah, it's fine," said Draco. "I guess you show more bravery than you do cleverness."

Hermione elbowed him playfully and he laughed.

"I am clever just the right amount, thank you very much," she said.

"Yeah, you are," said Draco "So clever that I'm a little worried."

"Worried?"

"Well you see, we have a problem on our hands here."

"And what problem is that?"

Draco turned to look at her.

"You're earning points for Gryffindor and I intend to earn points for Slytherin."

"Ah," said Hermione. "I don't see how that's a problem…unless you're not up for the competition."

"Oh, I'm definitely up for it," said Draco.

"Well good," said Hermione. "So am I."

"May the best wizard win then."

"Or witch."

Soon, the librarian Madame Pince began to close up the library, and so the two packed their things and Draco walked Hermione back to Gryffindor tower, stopping in front of the Fat Lady.

"This is really not necessary, you know," she told him.

"It's what friends do," said Draco. "Why, are you afraid to be seen with a Slytherin?"

"No!" said Hermione, her expression horrified. "Of course not!"

"Relax," laughed Draco. "I'm only joking. Here, I took your book by accident."

Hermione took it from him, gave him a sad smile, and bid him goodnight as she climbed through the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor common room, disappearing out of sight.

"Good night," sighed Draco, long after she was gone.

Back in his own common room, he threw his bag onto the couch and sank into an armchair by the fireplace. He stared at the flames for a long time, wondering why things had turned out the way they had. Why couldn't Hermione have been in his house? Why couldn't Snape be his Potions teacher? And why did Harry Potter have to go to Hogwarts and be in his year?

"So," said a tall boy who looked to be in 4th or 5th year, as he took a seat next to Draco, with a couple of his friends at his heel. "Malfoy, right?"

"Yes," said Draco.

Crabbe and Goyle also joined the crowd, looking mighty interested in what was being said.

"I'm Marcus Flint," said the tall boy, "Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team."

"Oh," said Draco.

"Are you planning to try out for me?" said Flint.

"Nah," said Draco. "I don't think so."

"Shame," said Flint. "So a couple of us were wondering why you're always hanging out with that Gryffindor girl…"

"Hermione?" said Draco. "We're friends."

The group of boys laughed.

"You do realise how wrong it is for you, a Slytherin, to be friends with a Gryffindor, right?" laughed Flint. "Much less a—"

"Flint!"

The boys jumped out of their seats and turned to face Snape, who was standing in the middle of the common room.

"You have just bought yourself a detention, Mr. Flint," said Snape. "Now off to bed, all of you!"

The boys scrambled into the dormitories in complete and total silence. Draco however remained seated. He was not scared of Snape at all. Snape approached him.

"How are you, Draco?" he asked, his eyes on the emerald green flames in the fireplace.

"Fine," muttered Draco. "Have…have you heard from my mum?"

"No," said Snape. "It's only the first day."

"Yeah," said Draco, quietly.

"I didn't realise that Professor Slughorn would be teaching the Slytherins this year," said Snape, after a moment's silence. "I'm…I'm sorry, Draco."

"Nah, it's fine," said Draco. "I was just hoping it would be you."

"Yes, I know," said Snape. "Go to bed, son. Go on."

Draco sighed and got to his feet.

"Night, Sev," he said, without glancing at Snape.

The next morning, Draco awoke early again and headed over to Gryffindor Tower. He waited by the portrait of the Fat Lady for nearly an hour and managed to read through two whole chapters of _Magical Drafts and Potions._ Hermione finally came out with Neville and smiled at the sight of Draco. Neville did not think twice to leave them alone and headed down to the Great Hall without her.

"How was your night?" she asked Draco, once they were alone.

"Normal," said Draco. "Yours?"

"Fairly good," said Hermione. "I don't know why you insist on waiting here for me every day. It's really not necessary."

"It's fine," said Draco, quickly.

The portrait hole swung open and out climbed Potter and his ginger friend.

"Well, well," he said, noticing Draco standing with Hermione. "Look who we have here."

"Draco something?" said Weasley, frowning at Potter.

"Mm, I don't remember," said Potter.

"Ugh, yes you do," said Hermione, annoyed. "It's _Malfoy._ "

"Right, right," said Potter. "Say, what are you doing over in our tower?"

"It's not off limits to other students, last time I checked," said Draco, bitterly.

Smirking stupidly, Potter and Weasley brushed past them and over to the Great Hall.

"They're so arrogant!" exclaimed Hermione, looking back as they disappeared from the hall.

She then proceeded to tell Draco a story about how Potter had basically called her nosy the night before.

"Ugh, I wish I was there," said Draco. "I would have really had my fun with him."

"That's exactly why it's good that you weren't there," said Hermione, causing Draco to frown at her. "It's fine, Draco, it's okay. I just ignore them and it's all good."

"Yeah," muttered Draco, as they finally reached the Entrance Hall.

He then proceeded to tell her the story of his encounter with Flint.

"What was he going to say?" said Hermione, who was horrified and slightly frightened as she listened to the story. "When Professor Snape interrupted, I mean…"

"I dunno," said Draco, truthfully. "But whatever it was, I don't think it was good."

"Yeah," said Hermione, quietly.

"It's okay, I'm not going to listen to him," Draco assured her. "I promise. We'll always be friends."

"Thank you," she said, smiling. "Now, are you going to try out for the Quidditch team?"

"No," laughed Draco. "No way."

"Why not?"

"First of all, I won't make it in," said Draco, as they made their way into the Great Hall. "And second, you kind of need to own one of those things to try out…what are they called? A BROOM!"

Hermione chuckled.

"The school has brooms available for students who own them. Haven't you read—?"

"— _Hogwarts: A History_?" Draco smiled at her. "Yeah, you know I've read it. I dunno, I just don't think I'll enjoy Quidditch much."

"Rubbish," said Hermione. "You love Quidditch."

"I'd rather study in the library with you," said Draco, as they reached the Gryffindor table.

Hermione smiled at him. His eyes lingered over Potter and Weasley who were watching him with gleeful smiles. He scowled and then looked back at Hermione.

"Well, I suppose I'll see you later."

"Okay," she said, waving to him before she took a seat next to a blonde girl.

Draco retreated to the Slytherin table and sat by himself in the corner, his eyes still on Hermione, ignoring the fact that Potter and Weasley were watching him intently, with stupid smirks on both their faces.

The next month flew by in the blink of an eye, and soon, Draco was finding it extremely difficult to defend Hermione before his Slytherin mates. Crabbe and Goyle had become his little minions, following him around everywhere he went (even when he didn't want them to). It was a little annoying, but not horrible. At least, he was not completely alone when Hermione was off with her new Gryffindor friends. She claimed that she didn't have any friends—just acquaintances—but Draco thought that was rubbish, considering he watched her laugh at the Gryffindor table every day.

He was doing fairly well in his classes. Whenever he was not in class, he was at the library, studying with Hermione. And then, once they were kicked out and parted for the night, he was in the common room, playing Exploding Snap with Crabbe and Goyle. They were stupid and pretty useless, but not too bad to keep around.

His parents did not bother writing him any letters. It had been a whole month since he'd last talked to them, not that he cared much. Living here and not with them was the best thing he could have ever asked for.

The Quidditch team tryouts took place at the start of October. That entire week, Hermione was on Draco's shoulder about trying out for Seeker.

"You're so good!" she kept on repeating. "It'd be a waste not to use that talent!"

"Hermione," he said. "You know a lot about everything but nothing about Quidditch."

"Oh it doesn't matter," said Hermione. "TRY OUT!"

"NO!

"Why not? Harry and Ronald are trying out."

Draco stared at her, horrified.

They were sitting in their usual spot at the library, and had already attracted a small audience. Several of their classmates were now watching them intently.

"Potter? Weasley?" said Draco, angrily. "I suppose you're all best buds now, aren't you?"

"NO!" cried Hermione. "Of course not. They're too arrogant for my liking."

"Mhm," said Draco, not believing her for a second.

"I just think it'd be healthy for you all to channel your anger or dislike into a competitive sport."

"Whatever," said Draco. "I'm off to bed."

He grabbed his bag and stormed out of the library, ignoring the many whispers from his classmates. By the time he got back to the common room, he felt so swallowed with guilt.

"Malfoy!" yelled Crabbe from the other end of the room. "Come play with us!"

He and Goyle were in the midst of a full-on card game. Draco stared at them for a moment, and then ran back out of the common room and upstairs to the library. But Hermione was not there anymore. Feeling pretty bad about himself, Draco wandered around the halls for a good hour, thinking back to every glorious day that he'd spent with Hermione that summer. He wished they could go back to when it was just them too…when there were no Potters or Weasleys in his life…when it was just him and his very best friend.

* * *

 **AN: ****As I mentioned in Chapter 1, Voldemort is not completely dead because one Horcrux still remains in existence. If this Horcrux gets out, it can influence and take the life of someone, ultimately bringing the Dark Lord back. I've had this conversation with someone already but now I want to know what you all think. Which Horcrux remains?**

 **Hint: It can't be Harry because he was never made into one in this story, and it can't be Nagini because Voldemort never met her.**


	6. Year 1: Complications

**Author's Note: Hey readers! I know it's been a while. I had to update _The Dark Lord Exposed_. This chapter takes place in the month of October. Thanks and until next time! **

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks**

* * *

CHAPTER 6: YEAR 1—COMPLICATIONS

* * *

 _Harry_

* * *

Classes kept Harry busy all throughout the months of September and October as he tried to keep up with the workload. He'd promised Lily that he would do well and he was intent on keeping that promise. He'd also promised James that he would excel in Quidditch, and making the team sure was a good start.

All this success and his status as the Boy Who Conquered sure brought Harry a lot of cool in front of his classmates. And, as a result, Ron was respected by his peers as well, for he stuck by Harry. The two of them bragged about their Quidditch positions to Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, both of whom watched them with admiration. The girls, Lavender Brown and the Patil sisters, also always seemed to be watching them. Only Hermione Granger was indifferent to whatever they did, which was typical considering she only cared about homework.

"She's a nightmare, honestly!" cried Ron, after a particularly nasty Charms lesson, during which Hermione had confiscated his wand and shown him how to properly perform the levitation spell.

Harry laughed out loud as he and Ron made their way over to their next lesson—Herbology. Neville was walking alongside them too, immersed in a book James had given him about poisons. As they walked, Ron went on about how annoying Hermione Granger was, but Harry was only half-listening. His mind was elsewhere—with his bedside table up in his dormitory, in fact. He was thinking about the letter that he'd received from Sirius that morning and already deciding what to put in the response:

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Yesss! I was really pleased to hear about Gryffindor, congratulations! The time is yours now, to carry on the legend that your dad and I have started._

 _You asked about the Sorting Hat. I think you already know the answer to that question. There's no fooling you, Boy Who Conquered._

 _Thanks for telling me about Moony. Keep me informed, will you? Lily worries far too much and James couldn't keep a secret to save his life. Believe me, I know. Remind me to tell you about the time the Whomping Willow almost killed Snivelly. By the way, how is it having him as a teacher? Must be awful. I can't even begin to imagine it. Dumbledore has made some mistakes in the past, but nothing like this._

 _Right now, I'm in New Zealand. It's very beautiful here. I'll take you sometime. We're expected to be back at the beginning of December but will be leaving for Czech right after the New Year, so I'll definitely be home for the holidays. We'll catch up then._

 _Keep writing, lots of love to you and Hedwig,_

 _Padfoot_

 _PS. Pass my congratulations to Neville as well_

 _P.P.S. Use the Nimbus 2000 for your first game—trust me_

It had been the perfect way to begin the day. Harry always loved hearing from Sirius, especially since Sirius was almost always busy travelling with his Quidditch team. One thing where wizards were flawed—no television and live feeds of international games. Harry sighed.

"…and anyway, you really should have partnered with her instead, Neville," concluded Ron.

"Yeah, you two seem to get each other," said Harry.

Neville shrugged.

"I guess nerd minds think alike, right?"

"Right!" said Harry and Ron together.

They made their way over to the greenhouses with their friends, discussing that ferocious essay that Snape had assigned the day before. Ron told a joke about a hag, a giant, and a unicorn and Harry bawled with laughter. After a while, he noticed that Neville had not even paid attention to the joke.

"Why are you always reading, Nev?" he finally said.

Neville looked up at him and shrugged.

"Seriously though," said Ron. "You spend too much time indoors, reading old books that are too dusty to handle."

"He's right, Nev, you should spend more time outside!" said Harry.

"Before it gets too cold," added Ron.

"Right again," said Harry, slapping Ron once on the back. "You should've joined Quidditch like me and Ron."

"I don't like Quidditch," said Neville, and noticing the stunned looks on Harry's and Ron's faces, he quickly added, "That much."

But that was clearly not enough for them, for they—

" _How can you not like Quidditch?!_ " exclaimed Ron.

"Your Godfather is a Quidditch mastermind!" Harry reminded him. "How can you? When did you? _How?!"_

Again, Neville shrugged, not knowing what else to say. Thankfully, he was saved by Madame Sprout who ushered the first-years into Greenhouse 3 for their Herbology lesson.

The weather worsened nastily over the next couple of days, making it very difficult for the Gryffindors to attend Quidditch practices. It was too cold and foggy to even stand outside. Captain Oliver Wood had to even postpone one practice because a storm unexpectedly hit Hogwarts and carried all the way into the night. It was unfortunate, but Harry was not too worried. He'd inherited his father's excellent skill and they'd also practiced a lot over the summer so he was a fair flyer. Ron was also not bad on a broom, though his confidence boosted up even more when there was an audience out on the stands, watching. Whenever they did have practice, Neville made a point of turning up to watch, with a book in his lap.

Sitting next to Malfoy in Transfiguration was definitely something Harry detested. Every class, he and Malfoy sat in silence, pretending that they did not know each other. But on the days that Professor McGonagall had the students working in partners, Harry got into nasty fights with Malfoy that were seconds away from duels. At least Professor McGonagall never noticed this. One thing the boys had in common was their instincts to act casually when the professor walked by their desks.

"I will feed you to the first snake I can find if you call me Malfonia again," said Malfoy under his breath during a transfiguration lesson one October afternoon.

"Oh dear, I'm frightened," said Harry, in a low voice. "Whatever will happen to me?"

"Shut up," growled Malfoy.

Smirking, Harry continued to watch Professor McGonagall up at the front, who was explaining the transformation formula. He took down a few notes but then rested his chin on the desk for the rest of the lesson. At some point, the words "This might appear on your test next week" rang in his ears and he sat up, fully alert. Realising he'd missed a few crucial points, he glanced at Malfoy's paper and wrote them down on his own. Unfortunately, Malfoy did not miss this.

"Get your eyes off of my paper, Potter," he muttered.

"Oh come on, I just need a few points," said Harry.

"Too bad," said Malfoy, pushing his paper away from Harry so that he could barely read it.

Harry glared at him.

"Come off it. Look, my mum's really strict on schoolwork, alright?"

"Sucks to be you then," said Malfoy, a hint of pride in his tone.

"Well, at least _my_ mum cares," said Harry after a moment's silence.

"Exactly what is that supposed to mean?" said Malfoy, who stopped writing and was now glaring back at Harry.

"Your mother obviously did not raise you right or you'd share…and be nicer about other people's toads…and not be such a Slytherin git."

" _You don't know anything about my mother_ ," Malfoy growled.

"Sheesh," said Harry, quietly. "Alright, alright. No need to get your wand all tied up in a knot."

"Prat," muttered Malfoy.

Smirking, Harry jumped from his desk upon dismissal and knocked Malfoy's inkbottle to the ground, causing it to smash and spill.

"Oops," said Harry, and he happily joined Ron at the door and exited the room together.

"Wicked move, Mr. Potter," said Ron, who was tearing up from all the laughing.

"Thank you!" exclaimed Harry. He tried not to let the look that Neville gave him bother him.

Hermione brushed past them angrily and gave Harry a look of deep hatred, before running off in the direction of the dungeons. That girl spent way too much time lingering over the house of Slytherin, thought Harry. The boys climbed up to Gryffindor tower and dropped their things off in the common room before heading down to the Great Hall for supper. By the time they got there, it was relatively full of hungry students discussing the upcoming Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Harry, Ron, and Neville took their seats and joined in on the conversations.

"I know Hufflepuff's techniques like the back of my hand," Wood was saying. "We'll be fine."

"Yeah, and we've got one hell of a seeker too," said Fred Weasley.

Harry grinned into his soup.

"Hey Harry," said Ron after a while. "I didn't get a chance to copy down any of the notes in transfiguration—too busy sleeping, you know."

"Right," laughed Harry.

"Mind if I—?"

"Yeah, for sure."

"Thanks mate," smiled Ron.

"Though, I doubt my notes are anywhere near as detailed as Nev's," Harry pointed out a minute later.

Ron turned to Neville expectedly, who gave a slight jerk of the head so as to say, "Well, if you must."

Ron grinned.

At that moment, Hermione Granger stalked into the Great Hall, hovered for a few seconds, and then quickly found Harry and approached him determinedly.

"What's up?" he said, as she stood before him, glaring at him with fury.

"Professor McGonagall wants to see you in her office this instant," said Hermione, whose arms were crossed and chin raised.

Harry slowly lowered his spoon and stared at her.

"What for?"

"I told her what you did to Draco back in class," said Hermione.

"You what?!" said Harry and Ron together.

"And it's a good thing I did," said Hermione, "Because Draco wouldn't have done it."

"That's because he's not as big a git as you are," said Ron, angrily.

Ignoring him, Hermione stalked off. Harry looked at Ron who didn't know what to say.

"Blimey," he muttered over and over again.

Nodding, Harry quickly finished his soup and got to his feet. He returned to the common room twenty minutes later in a fouler mood than before. He joined Ron on the couch and slumped.

"Well…?" said Ron, nervously.

"Detention," Harry answered, staring at the fireplace. "And 5 points."

"Brilliant," spat Ron, glaring in Hermione's direction. She was in her own little corner once again, with books scattered in front of her on the table. "Just brilliant."

"Yeah," said Harry, quietly.

He'd known Hermione was obsessed with school and trying to be first and the best at everything and absolutely perfect, but he'd never expected _this_ of her. After all, did loyalty mean nothing anymore? Were they not in the same house and were his five points deducted not also _her_ five points deducted?

"I'm going to bed," said Harry finally, who was really not in the mood to do homework tonight. He got up from the couch and stretched.

"Wait!" said Ron as Harry turned to leave. "Aren't you forgetting about dragon blood?"

It took a moment for Harry to realise what Ron was talking about, but once he did, he sighed heavily and slumped back on the couch. Snape had assigned them a ferocious essay on the 12 uses of dragon blood, to be handed in tomorrow morning. Harry contemplated this for a few minutes and then got back up.

"But where are you going?" Ron wondered.

"Bed," said Harry, defiantly.

As it turned out, he did not care about the essay after all. It was just one. Big deal. Knowing Snape, there'd be plenty more to make up his grade. Once up in his dormitory, he kicked off his shoes and drew the hangings around his four-poster bed, slumping on the pillows and throwing his glasses to the bedside table. It had been such a long day and he was too tired to think of anything else. Sleep quickly found him and he was worry-free for the next 11 hours.

It only hit Harry at breakfast what a stupid decision it had been to sleep and not do that essay. As he ate his porridge, he crafted a plan with Ron to explain the absence of his work.

"Say you were homesick," Ron suggested for the third time. "It's only been a month and a half since we started here."

"It is understandable," offered Neville, but Harry shook his head.

"Not to this teacher, it's not," he said. Ron gave him a questioning look. "You have to really understand Snape. His mind does not function like a typical wizard's mind ought to."

"Ah," said Ron. "Makes absolute sense." He paused. "You know so much about the teachers here."

"My parents like to talk," said Harry, shrugging.

Again, Ron paused.

"Say, would you happen to know then why Lupin is always sick or looking sick, at least?"

It was Harry's turn to pause now. He knew exactly why but despite how close he had come to be with Ron, he'd promised Lupin that he wouldn't say a word to anyone. He looked to Neville for support but Neville gave him a quick shake of the head and resumed reading the Daily Prophet.

"Nope," Harry lied to Ron. "He's probably just prone to sickness."

"Strange fellow," said Ron, mostly to himself.

"Yeah," agreed Harry, feeling relieved to have dodged that sudden bullet. He really hadn't expected someone to notice this early.

After breakfast, he nervously followed Ron down to the dungeons for their morning Potions lesson. Ron clutched onto his essay (written at the last minute) and tapped Harry on the back encouragingly as they finally entered the classroom and found their seats.

"I'll be collecting those essays now," said Snape, lazily, and he waved his wand. 24 papers soared their way from all directions to the teacher's desk. Snape frowned. "Who is missing?"

At first, no one said a word. Then, Harry slowly rose to his feet and bowed his head.

"Mr. Potter," said Snape, quietly. "Well, well…I suppose the Boy Who Conquered is not the Boy Who Listened after all." A few students chuckled at these words. "Did I not clearly state that the essay was due today or it'd be a mark of 0?"

"You did," said Harry.

"You did what?" repeated Snape.

Harry sighed.

"You did, _professor._ "

Snape glared at him.

"And the reading on common poisons?" he said. "Did you forget to do that too?"

Harry mentally slapped himself. How could he have been so stupid? He blamed Hermione for this completely. It'd been she who'd distracted him. Slowly, he nodded. Snape sneered.

"Detention, Potter," he said, lazily. "My office, 8 o'clock tonight. If you miss it, you'll make it up tomorrow."

Harry sat down and then lifted his head again as a sudden thought dawned upon him.

"W-what about Quidditch practice, sir?" he said. "I have one tonight _and_ tomorrow."

Snape smirked.

"I think Gryffindor will manage just fine without you, Boy Who Conquered."

Harry growled and kept his forehead on the desk for the rest of the lesson, ignoring Ron's occasional words of comfort and Hermione's "I told you so" looks.

About halfway through the lesson, Snape got to his feet and began to slowly circle the classroom as he continued to explain the Forgetfulness Potion. This was his way of indicating that he was about to randomly quiz students on random facts that only Hermione would know because she'd memorized the whole Potions book by now.

"Weasley," said Snape. Ron's head shot up at the mention of his name. "The properties of the Forgetfulness Potion."

"W-what about them, s-sir?" said Ron, gulping nervously.

"How do they resemble those of sleeping draughts?"

Normally, Hermione's hand would have shot into the air at the chance to answer a question. But today, she looked a bit off—sad, even. Snape remained at Ron's desk, waiting for his answer which, Harry knew perfectly well, would be incorrect.

"Um," said Ron, looking to Neville for help. But Neville had nothing to offer him. He'd not read up on that part of the textbook yet. "W-well…they b-both mess with your…your brain, don't they?"

A wicked smile crossed Snape's face.

"A 3-year-old could conclude that much," he said. "It was a trick question, Weaslebee. 5 Points from Gryffindor, and I shall deduct more if you don't start doing the reading."

"That's not fair!" exclaimed Seamus Finnigan. "You can't do that!"

"Talking back to a teacher?" said Snape, curiously. "That's 5 more points, Finnigan. And a detention for you." He paused. "You too, Weaslebee."

"It's _Weasley_ , sir," Ron corrected.

"I know," said Snape casually.

Feeling overwhelmed with his fury, Harry's head shot up.

"You can't do that!" he said, angrily. "Sir," he quickly added, after Snape gave him a look of deep dislike.

"You can extend that detention to a full week, Potter," he finally said. "And don't you dare miss a single one."

"The nerve!" exclaimed Ron once they were out of the classroom and out of Snape's earshot.

Ron went on a full rant about Snape's unprofessionalism and how unfair and prejudiced he was being.

"Don't worry," said Harry. "I'll tell my parents all about it."

Though, he wasn't sure he ought to mention it, given his mother's history with Snape.

"But what are you going to do about Quidditch?" Ron wondered. "You can't miss that many practices or Wood will kick you off the team!"

"No one is going to kick him off the team," said Neville, who was walking alongside them.

"You think so?" said Harry.

"I know so," said Neville. "You're the Boy Who Conquered. They are honoured just to have you in Gryffindor, let alone on their Quidditch team. Besides, you've inherited James' skill."

"Thanks Nev," grinned Harry.

Back in the common room, he pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and dabbed his quill angrily in some ink. He thought for a moment and then bent over the paper to write:

 _Dear mum and dad,_

 _Snape is absolutely the worst!_

Harry paused. Exactly what was he supposed to tell them? No matter what he would say, Snape would contradict it—say he was rude, arrogant, always late to class, and never did his homework (which was not exactly untrue). But Harry was new to Hogwarts. This was his time—his shining year—to make an impression upon his classmates. After all, first-year was judgment year. Surely, his parents would understand.

Harry crumpled up the parchment and fetched another one.

 _Dear mum and dad,_

 _Everything is good. Marks are good, Quidditch is really good, Hagrid's doing well, Remus' doing well—things are going very well. Miss you loads and can't wait until the holidays._

 _Harry_

 _PS. Neville says hi_

Harry paused before starting the next letter. It wasn't exactly wrong to do this, was it?

 _Dear Padfoot,_

 _You asked me what it's like to have Snape as a teacher. It's a nightmare. He hates my guts and I think it's mainly because he hated you and dad when you were kids. Anyway, it'll be fine. I'll deal with him somehow. Don't tell mum but he's given me detention for a full week, which will force me to miss a lot of Quidditch practice. I know. Ouch, right?_

 _You're right, by the way. The Nimbus 2000 is much better than the Nimbus 1700. Better technique. Thanks._

 _On another note, does the name Malfoy ring any bells? Their son is in my year and he's an absolute git. I'll tell you more when I see you. I can't wait, by the way. I hope you're doing alright._

 _Harry_

Feeling pleased with his work, he sealed the letters and jumped from the couch.

"I'm off to the owlry," he told Ron, who was snoozing over in one of the armchairs.

"Kay," Neville answered, looking up from his book for a brief second as Harry climbed out of the portrait hole.

By the time he got to the owlry, he grew nervous as to what his parents would say if they ever found out that what he told them was not what he told Sirius. He opened the door to the owlry and stopped dead in his tracks. There was someone already there. Short and bushy-haired, she stood in the corner, petting Hedwig who was already waiting for Harry.

"Ahem," coughed Harry.

Hermione turned around instantly, looking flushed.

"Sorry," she said quickly, and turned to leave.

"Stop," said Harry. Hermione obeyed. "What were you doing with my owl?"

"I was just petting her," said Hermione, sadly. "I didn't know she was your owl."

"Right," said Harry, moving to stand beside Hedwig and beginning to pet her himself. "Why did you have to go and tell on me to McGonagall?"

"It was the r-right thing to do at the t-time," said Hermione.

"Yeah, you're always about doing the right thing, aren't you?" said Harry, miserably. "You know, you might want to—hey, a-are you okay?"

Hermione wiped a tear and nodded quickly. It took Harry a moment to figure it out, but he eventually did and sighed heavily.

"He didn't like that you defended him," he concluded.

Hermione nodded and then, without warning, ran out of the owlry.

Harry felt bad, he really did. Draco Malfoy was just one of those who didn't give a rat's arse about anyone else but themselves. Hermione was surely suffering for it, but she wasn't exactly a piece of cake to handle either. Besides, if she really wanted to, she could easily ditch him. They weren't even in the same house! But Harry felt bad because, after all, she _was_ in Gryffindor and protecting their own was one thing Harry definitely valued.

Detention with Snape was the most brutal thing he'd ever had to endure. The man was a vicious animal. He made Harry polish the silver in the Trophy Room _without_ the use of magic. This of course took twice as long and Harry therefore ended up coming back to the common room every night after everyone had gone to sleep. He would sit by the fire, groan about that horrible detention, and then get started on his homework.

"I think you should go see Dumbledore," Ron suggested on the third day over breakfast, when Harry joined him at the Gryffindor table. "You look like death!"

"Thanks," Harry muttered into his cereal bowl.

"I do think Snape is overworking you," Neville agreed. "Have you slept at all this week?"

"Barely," said Harry. "I really hate the man."

"Well we have to do something," said Ron. "This can't go on!"

"Speak for yourself," said Neville, quickly. "I'm not doing anything to anger gran—no way."

"He's right," Harry told Ron. "Just let it go."

"But—"

"Let it go," Harry repeated.

And so Harry continued with his classes and detentions as best as he could, and dodged Oliver Wood whenever he saw him coming. He would do anything he could to stay on the team.

Finally, the streak of detentions was over and Snape had tortured him enough. Harry thought it safe to come back to practice.

"About time," said Wood when he saw Harry stride up to the Quidditch pitch, wearing his gear.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled.

"Welcome back, mate," said Fred and George together. "Thought we lost you there for a while."

"Agreed," said Wood. "Come on—we haven't a lot of time until the first game of the season."

* * *

Neville's mood worsened a bit over the next few weeks. Harry and Ron tried to question him about it but he didn't seem to want to open up, so they let him be. Still, it was very noticeable. The only person who was sulkier than him was Moony. The end of October was fast approaching, as was his cycle. His mood swings were starting to act up and he became very irrational when speaking to Harry, which Harry had already come to recognise as a sign that he was close to transformation. He felt really bad for him because Moony was naturally an incredibly kind person. But he was also very alone and didn't have anyone else. Harry only hoped that Sirius would have a solution to this problem soon.

The only thing that made Harry feel slightly worse was not telling Ron about Moony's condition. The poor bloke was so confused about the professor's behaviour, as were the rest of Harry's classmates. Harry tried to come up with excuses for him but it was already too noticeable, this early on.

October 23rd—also known as the first Quidditch game of the season—finally arrived, and with it came a flock of butterflies that settled themselves permanently in Harry's stomach. Ron seemed to be nervous too because he didn't touch a single thing during breakfast and zoned out completely in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Moony seemed to understand the importance of that day and made things easier by giving the students a simple work period. Feeling slightly relieved and grateful, Harry spent the hour replaying his game plan over and over so that he wouldn't forget. He was so hopeful that it would work and that he wouldn't fail. The last thing he wanted was to make a fool of himself in front of the whole school. They already looked up to him so much, being the Boy Who Conquered and everything. He didn't think he'd be able to stand it if he messed that up.

After lunch, Harry and Ron joined their teammates in the change rooms and prepared for their first ever Quidditch match.

"Alright, listen up," said Wood, after everyone was ready and paying attention. "Hufflepuff doesn't stand a chance. We have a really strong-built team. You all have hard work and dedication built into your bones."

"We also have the knowledge that you will come after us if we don't do well today," said Fred, eerily.

"Exactly!" cried Wood. "NOW, LET'S GO GET 'EM!"

The team clapped each other on the backs and ran for the pitch. They were met with the deafening roars of a wild crowd, chanting their names. The sky was cloudless and perfect for playing conditions. The Hufflepuffs were huddled at the center of the field, all of them looking positively nervous. Things were looking up already.

Wood turned round to face his teammates and gave them the thumbs up before he mounted his broom and soared up into the air, followed closely by Fred and George.

"Okay, here we go," said Ron nervously, also mounting his broom.

"Hey," said Harry, looking at the crowd and then back at Ron. "Let's show them how it's done."

Smirking, Ron soared up into the air as well.

Madame Hooch came out onto the field next and let the balls go. She looked up at all the players, reminded them of the rules of the game, and blew her whistle, letting the game begin.

Flying at home with James and Sirius was one thing. Flying during practice and during first-year flying lessons was all good fun. But flying out on the pitch, in front of a large crowd cheering and chanting your name, was heavenly. Harry knew he would never forget this moment. It was the happiest he'd felt probably in his whole life. There wasn't anything like it. He flew like he'd never flown before, enjoying the way the wind waved his robes behind him. He knew he looked good because he'd taken Sirius' advice and chosen to play the Nimbus 2000 for his first game. And boy, was it worth it. He flew at incredible speed and had no trouble whatsoever spotting the snitch.

Ron was doing well too, though he still looked slightly nervous, whereas Harry's nerves had left him the minute that whistle had blown. Gryffindor however was losing points to Hufflepuff very quickly, and so Harry put everything aside and concentrated hard on the snitch and the snitch only. He knew his father would be oh so proud if he were watching. Sirius would too. Taking in the fact that everyone had their eyes on him specifically, Harry performed a few of the tricks Sirius had taught him. He must have been doing them well because he earned several loud cheers from the crowd, and the Gryffindors had taken to chanting "HAAARRY! HAAARRY! HAAARRY! HAAARRY!"

Just 20 minutes into the game, Harry spotted the snitch at an angle he knew would be quite easy to tackle it. Savouring this moment forever and always, he did a sort of flip on the Nimbus and caught the snitch at his first try, earning himself a wild roar from the crowd.

"YEAAAAAH!" yelled Wood, stopping on his broom to applaud with the rest of the team, who were also chanting Harry's name now.

Ron flew up beside him and clapped him hard on the back, grinning broadly. Harry surveyed the crowd with his eyes, twinkling with delight.

Forgetting all his troubles for just one second—forgetting about his nervousness for the match and his eagerness to protect his reputation, Neville's strangeness and Moony's depression, about Snape's terrible detentions, and Malfoy's Slytherin wickedness, forgetting about Hermione's sadness and his own lack of attention to homework (which would surely upset Lily), Harry found that, for just one second, he was finally able to enjoy being at Hogwarts.

* * *

 _Draco_

* * *

Draco was not at all distressed about the heavy workload from his classes. In fact, it served as a really good distraction from the fact that he had been at Hogwarts for nearly two whole months and was still yet to receive a letter from home. It was as if he had not left at all. How wonderful.

When he was not in class or the Great Hall, he was at the library for his evening study sessions with Hermione. There, they discussed everything, just like the good old days in the meadow. For those few hours every night, Draco felt as if nothing had changed…as if they weren't in two completely different houses.

"Well it's not as if our houses determine who we really are," Hermione told him one night when he expressed this to her. "They are only just placements. Who we really are lies in our hearts."

"Cute," said Draco. "What book did you get that from?"

Hermione grinned.

"Certainly not _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ ," she said, turning back to her copy. "I swear this part was not in the book when _I_ read it."

She scanned the page on the transformation formula and frowned.

"I think it's a sign that you've read it too many times," Draco pointed out. "Your memory is getting hazy."

"Maybe," said Hermione, still frowning.

Sitting next to Potter in Transfiguration was definitely something Draco detested with all his heart. Every class, the two of them sat in silence, pretending that they did not know each other. Whenever Professor McGonagall wasn't looking however, they whispered all the insults they could think of to each other, each one hoping to break the other and get them into trouble. And worst of all, Potter had developed a particularly nasty habit of calling Draco 'Malfonia'.

"I will feed you to the first snake I can find if you ever do that again," said Draco under his breath during a transfiguration lesson one October afternoon.

"Oh dear, I'm frightened," said Potter, in a low voice. "Whatever will happen to me?"

"Shut up," growled Draco.

If he had his way, he would curse him then and there. But he hardly felt like getting expelled and coming back home early. Images of that rotten shed that needed cleaning soared their way into Draco's mind and he concentrated instead on copying down McGonagall's transformation formula. After a few minutes, he finally noticed Potter glancing at his paper, and angrily shoved it aside.

"Get your eyes off of my paper, Potter" he hissed.

"Oh come on, I just need a few points," said Potter, arrogantly.

"Too bad," said Draco, pushing his paper away from Potter so that he could barely read it.

The nerve of this kid, to try and benefit off of him!

"Come off it. Look, my mum's really strict on schoolwork, alright?"

"Sucks to be you then," said Draco, a hint of pride in his tone.

"Well, at least _my_ mum cares," said Potter after a moment's silence.

Draco's heart stopped. Forgetting McGonagall up at the front completely, he glared at Potter.

"Exactly what is that supposed to mean?" said Draco, having stopped writing.

"Your mother obviously did not raise you right or you'd share…and be nicer about other people's toads…and not be such a Slytherin git."

" _You don't know anything about my mother_ ," Draco growled, angrily.

"Sheesh," said Potter, quietly, as McGonagall's voice got louder in the background. "Alright, alright. No need to get your wand all tied up in a knot."

"Prat," muttered Draco.

Potter would surely pay for that one. He would make sure of it.

When the bell rang and the students were dismissed however, Potter jumped from his desk and purposely knocked Draco's inkbottle to the ground, causing it to smash and spill everywhere.

"Oops!" he yelled before skipping his way out of the classroom, leaving Draco to tidy up the mess himself.

"Mr. Malfoy!" said McGonagall, standing up at the front. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," he growled.

"Please, professor!" said Hermione, who Draco hadn't noticed was waiting by his side. "It was all Harry Potter's fault. I saw it happen. He knocked the bottle off on purpose!"

"Ms. Granger, are you sure?" said McGonagall.

"Positive!" said Hermione.

Draco shushed her but she ignored him.

"He also said some rude things about Draco's mother. I heard that too."

"Quit talking!" Draco hissed in her ear as he got up, having collected all the broken pieces from the inkbottle and wiped up the ink. How on earth would he convince his mother to buy him another one now, if she wasn't even writing him letters?

"Very well, Ms. Granger," said McGonagall. "Go and fetch Potter for me."

"Where would he be, professor?" said Hermione, who looked pleased with her work.

"The Great Hall for supper, I expect," said McGonagall. "Go on."

"Thank you, professor!" said Hermione.

She turned to look at Draco but he was already out the door.

"Wait!" she called after him as he sped through the halls, storming past Potter and his arrogant little mates.

Hermione glared at them as she passed but did not say anything. What had caught her attention was Draco's obvious fury. He stalked past the other students and right by the Great Hall, towards the dungeons.

"Wait!" Hermione tried again. "Draco, where are you going?!"

"I need to go to the common room," he called back, without stopping to look at her.

"But I thought we were—oh wait up, will you?—I thought we were going to have lunch!"

"I'm not hungry," said Draco, dismissively.

"That's what you said last time," said Hermione. "If you forget, I knew you for a whole summer before we came here and you really do like food, Draco Malfoy."

" _Just leave me alone, alright?!"_ he yelled finally, turning round the corner and disappearing from view.

Hermione had stopped walking as the impact of these words hit her. Draco spent the entire afternoon shut up in his dormitory, wishing he could punch Potter right in his fat face. He did not come down to eat or do homework or anything else. He did not even speak to anyone. Finally, at about ten to 9, Crabbe showed up.

"M-Malfoy?" he said.

"What?" snapped Draco, who was really not in the mood to be disturbed by anyone.

"Granger is here to see you," he said.

Draco shoved the blankets aside and sat up instantly.

"Here?"

"Outside the common room."

"Lord," said Draco. He was in a foul mood and knew already that this would not end well. Dropping his wand on the bed, he got up and stomped out of the dormitory and down the stairs. Sure enough, Hermione was waiting just outside the dormitory, holding something black in her hand. At the sight of Draco, she instantly smiled.

"Hi!" she said.

"Hi," he muttered, his hands in his pockets.

"I brought this for you," she said, handing him what looked like a brand new ink bottle.

"T-thanks," said Draco, confused. He took it from her and held it in his hands. Blimey, it wasn't just an ordinary ink bottle. It was one of the finest ones sold at Diagon Alley, crafted in 130 B.C!

"How was your night?" tried Hermione, still smiling.

"Fine," said Draco, his eyes still on the inkbottle in his hands.

What did she think, that he was some kind of a charity case? What the hell was he supposed to do now with this fancy inkbottle?

"Well, I came by here to give you that," began Hermione, "And also to tell you that McGonagall gave Harry Potter a detention."

Draco's eyes shot up.

"She did?"

"Yep!" said Hermione, looking very pleased with herself. "You are very welcome!"

"I didn't ask you to do that," snapped Draco, wiping the smile off of her face instantly.

"W-what?"

"I didn't ask you to do that! I didn't ask you to fight my battle for me! Good lord, do you realise how embarrassing that is, Hermione?!"

She stared at him, not knowing what to say.

"Do me a favour and just go back to your common room tonight, okay?" said Draco, tossing the inkbottle back to her and turning round to leave. She did not try to stop him or say anything else, and by the time he got back to his dormitory, he already felt bad about what he'd said. He hadn't meant it. He hadn't meant any of it. He quickly sprinted back down the stairs in hopes to catch her, but she had already gone. Great. Just great.

Draco spent the next couple of days sulking. He hated it when he and Hermione were not on speaking terms. It seemed to be happening quite a lot since they'd started at Hogwarts. Of course he blamed the Sorting Hat for this. If it hadn't been for their separation, they'd be on really good terms now. Actually, if she was of a different blood heritage, they'd be on the best terms. And the Slytherins surely did not let Draco forget this.

"Just think about it!" Flint cried one late night during one of their usual house meetings. " _Really_ think about it!"

"I am," said Draco, a little annoyed. It was his turn to be interrogated and the interrogated always sat in the middle of the common room, surrounded by all the others.

"No, I don't think you are," said Flint, thoughtfully. "You don't seem to understand how this will impact you—us… _all of us."_

"How will it—?"

"Our forefather is _Salazar Slytherin_!" said Flint. "He was the biggest supremacist in wizarding history!"

"The man absolutely loathed muggle-borns and anything to do with them," added a third-year blonde girl.

Draco looked down.

"Think about it, man," concluded Flint. "Think about it."

So Draco did think about it. He thought about it for all of the second week of October, and then the third. He thought about it as the weather worsened…as the homework piled…as the first Quidditch match grew nearer. He thought about it as he played Exploding Snap with Crabbe and Goyle by the fire one night. He thought about it as he paid another visit to the library, hoping to see Hermione there, only to be disappointed by her absence. And finally, near the end of the month, he'd stopped thinking. He didn't care if Hermione embarrassed herself completely and chose to have lunch at the staff table one day. She had been his first friend ever—she had been his friend long before they'd even come to Hogwarts. If she would take him back, he would go back, no matter what Flint or any other Slytherin had to say on the matter.

The Quidditch match was only days away now, and all the rage at school too. It was all anyone seemed to be talking about, which only worsened Draco's mood because he would not be playing in it. He knew he should have listened to Hermione and not let his pride get to him. He knew he should have tried out. It was too late now though.

"It's never too late," said a voice behind him.

He turned away from the window by the stairwell, overlooking the Quidditch pitch in the distance, and found himself face to face with Hermione.

"H-hi," he said, confused.

"I know what you were thinking," she said, moving up to his step and peering through the window as well. "You were thinking that you were wrong and I was right and you should have tried out and it's too late now."

"Y-y-yeah," said Draco, slowly. "And that I'm sorry for the way I acted before."

"Of course you are," said Hermione, smartly. "Lucky for you, I plan to keep you around for a long time, so you are forgiven."

"Thanks," said Draco. "And yeah, you were right. I should have tried out. I would have been good."

"Yeah, you would have," said Hermione. "But it's not like this is your first and only year. You'll get a chance next year."

"Right," said Draco. "If I'm still even here next year, that is."

Hermione frowned.

"Are you planning on going somewhere without telling me?"

"Only if I get expelled."

"Why would you get expelled?"

Draco reached into his bag and pulled out his Defense Against the Dark Arts book.

"I've fallen really behind," he told her.

She bit her lip and then reached into her bag and pulled out a folder.

"Lucky for you, I make meticulous notes," she said, handing them to him with a smile.

They spent the rest of that Saturday in the library, studying Hermione's mountain of notes so that by evening, Draco was all caught up and had copies of key points. He'd even taken to quizzing Hermione on some of them, which of course she excelled at.

"Yeah, you're going to need to step up your game if you want to collect more house points and beat me," she told him as they collected their books. "By the way, you're going to need this." She handed him the inkbottle and he smiled sheepishly as he took it back.

Together, they headed out of the library just before closing and made their way through the darkened corridors.

"…after all, it _is_ a competition, isn't it?" Hermione said, after having explained to him how far behind he'd fallen in his point-collecting.

"Yeah," said Draco.

"I believe we're already 30 or 40 points ahead of you guys," she added as they turned the corner and climbed up the marble staircase. "Better get that brilliant brain of yours working!"

"Yeah," Draco repeated.

Hermione looked at him from the corner of her eyes.

"Hey, are you okay?"

He stopped walking and stared at her. Would she laugh?

"I just…I haven't been able to talk to you about this for days," he said, in a quiet voice.

"What is it?"

"I…I haven't gotten any…any letters…since I came here."

Hermione's jaw dropped.

"Any?"

Draco shook his head.

"Oh Draco," said Hermione, placing a hand on his shoulder. "That's awful."

"Yeah," he said, looking down. "I don't know. I don't really need them to check up on me or worry or anything like that…but it'd be nice to know that they did."

"I understand," said Hermione, quietly. "Maybe…maybe _you_ could write to _them?_ "

"Yeah," said Draco, starting up the walk again. "Yeah, maybe."

The reached Gryffindor tower in no time and turned to look at each other.

"Well, see you," said Draco.

"Yeah, see you," said Hermione, turning her back on him and heading down the corridor for the common room.

The next day, Draco sat his Defense Against the Dark Arts test with full confidence, thanks to Hermione. He was not at all worried about how he'd done, and now that he and she were talking again, he felt loads better—so much that he was even nicer to poor Crabbe and Goyle, who'd been worried about him. He made a point to eat well during lunch so that they felt better.

One thing that Draco found quite interesting about Hogwarts was the sense of secrecy. There was always this feeling that something was going on that no one else knew about. Dumbledore may have been an expert at putting on a pokerface, but Draco was not fooled. He could sense the teachers were covering up for something.

It had been a while since he'd spoken to Snape. They rarely crossed each other's paths which was unfortunate because Draco liked him the most. Slughorn was not a bad teacher but he did tend to ramble on about unimportant things quite often during his lessons, which Draco found to be really annoying. McGonagall was as strict as ever, making her lessons quite dull and boring—especially when you had to be sitting next to the great and powerful Boy Who bloody Conquered. Defense Against the Dark Arts was so far a favourite of Draco's. Not only did he get to sit right next to Hermione, but the teacher was also not bad.

Draco observed Lupin for the next couple of days very carefully. The man was nice but he obviously had some issues. For one, he had several scars on his face and along his neck and hands, which indicated to Draco that he was not spending his nights in the staff room, playing cards with the others or whatever it was they were doing with their spare time. Second, his mood tended to change…a lot. He would snap at some students for absolutely no reason and then be extremely polite and kind and caring literally a second after. Something fishy was definitely going on, though Draco could not put his finger on it quite yet.

Later that night, he thought he'd meet up with Hermione again in the library, now that they were talking and things were good again. However, just before turning around the corner, he spotted her making her way up to Gryffindor tower with the toad boy...something Longbottom. Feeling frustrated, he walked back to the common room and looked around. There were only a couple of Slytherins there…some third years gossiping in the corner, a few seventh years studying by the fireplace, and Crabbe and Goyle sitting at the end, staring up at the ceiling stupidly. Draco grabbed a deck of cards from one of the tables and approached them. They sat up once they noticed him.

"Come on, let's play," he told them. They beamed at him.

* * *

"I can't wait until the Quidditch match," said Crabbe, excitedly.

"Slytherin isn't even playing," said Goyle, confused.

"It doesn't matter!" said Crabbe. "I've never even seen a Quidditch match before."

"Malfoy?" said Goyle.

"What?" said Draco, looking up from his cards.

"Do you even know how to fly?"

"Yes."

"Could we watch you sometime?"

Draco glared at them.

"If you bring me a broom, I'll fly, alright?"

They looked rather pleased with this answer. Shaking his head at them, Draco said, "Just deal the cards, man."

"So seriously," said Crabbe after a while. "Why do you hang out with that Gryffindor girl all the time? You know she's a—?"

"A muggle-born?" said Draco. "Yeah, I know. And I thought we'd agreed no more questions."

"It looks bad on our house, mate," said Goyle. "Flint says so."

"Yeah? Well Flint doesn't know what he's talking about."

"He's older!" said Crabbe.

Draco looked up at him.

"If he's so smart, why don't you play with _him_ instead?"

He dropped the cards on the table, got up, and stormed up to the dormitory. What a bunch of idiots.

But as he kicked off his shoes angrily and got into bed, a thought dawned on him. His mother and father were no different.

On the day of the Quidditch match, the whole school was in extremely high spirits. Classes flew on by and before long, everyone was headed down for the Quidditch pitch, chanting their team's names and waving little flags around, cheering for either Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. Draco made to join the others when Lupin stepped out of his classroom and stopped him.

"Could I possibly see you for just a moment?" he said.

"Sure," said Draco, following him inside and closing the door behind him.

"I wanted to personally give this to you," said Lupin, who was reaching over to his desk. He grabbed a piece of paper and handed it to the perplexed Draco who took it in his hands and eyed it curiously.

It was the test paper from a few days before, and the words at the top were written in bolded red ink that Draco was sure Lupin had conjured purposely: TOP MARKS.

"Blimey," said Draco, mostly to himself.

"Congratulations," said Lupin, who was beaming at him. "I had no idea you were so fascinated by werewolf bites."

"Y-yeah," said Draco, looking up from his test paper. "Yeah, they're great. Thanks, professor!"

"Not a problem!" said Lupin. "So, are you going to see the game?"

"Uh," said Draco, but before he could answer, the door sprung open behind him, revealing a very angry-looking Severus Snape, holding a black cauldron.

"Ah, Professor," said Lupin, "Come in, come in. We were just discussing Mr. Malfoy's excellent grade on the latest test paper."

"Were you?" said Snape, who did not look at all impressed. "How marvelous."

He handed Lupin the cauldron without so much as a glance in Draco's direction.

"Thank you, Severus," said Lupin. "I really needed that. Well, it was nice seeing you, Draco. I do hope you enjoy the game."

"Goodbye professor," said Draco.

He nodded at Snape, whose black eyes flickered over him for just a second, and exited the classroom.

What the bloody hell was going on with them?

But Draco had no time to ponder over what could have possibly been inside the cauldron, for he'd just spotted Hermione walking alongside some Gryffindor girls who didn't look like they wanted her to be with them.

"Hey!" Draco called out to her.

She moved away from the girls and joined him, looking frightened and worried at the same time.

"What's wrong?" were the first words out of her mouth, but Draco only grinned and shoved the test paper in front of her.

"TOP MARKS!" she exclaimed. "That's preposterous!"

"Why?" said Draco, frowning. He'd thought she'd be happy that her notes had helped him avoid expulsion. But Hermione didn't answer and looked through the test in a panicky sort of way. It took a moment but it finally hit Draco. A wide grin spread across his face. "And how did _you_ do on that test?"

Hermione looked up at him.

"I did well," she said, quickly, her face reddening.

"You did not!" laughed Draco.

She shoved the test paper back at him, furious, and crossed her arms.

"Oh what do you know, Mr. What-the-bloody-hell-is-a-bowtruckle?"

Draco's laugh grew louder. Annoyed, Hermione looked over at the sea of students shoving past them towards the Quidditch pitch.

"Are you coming?" she asked Draco.

"Nah," he said. "I'm going to go to the library. I don't really feel like cheering Potter on."

Hermione looked to be contemplating something because she screwed up her face into a sort of frown.

"What?" said Draco.

"I'm coming with you."

"A-are you sure? You've never seen a Quidditch match before. You should go!"

"No, I'm coming with you."

Well, who was he to argue with her? He gave up quickly and led her up the stairs, passing right by the library.

"Wait, I thought we were—"

"This is better," said Draco, leading her up more flights of stairs.

Finally, they reached their destination: the Astronomy Tower. It was very breezy there that day and Hermione wrapped her cloak around herself as Draco led her to the side where they had a clear view of the Quidditch pitch.

"It's wonderful up here," said Hermione, looking over at the hills in the distance, amidst some fog. The sky was very clear that day and the grass greener than ever.

"What do you like about it?" Draco asked, dropping his book bag and taking a seat on the floor.

"The view," Hermione answered, joining him. "It's so beautiful. You?"

"The quiet," he said, without even thinking it. "The secluded nature of it…it's not bothered by anyone else. It's amazing."

"Yeah," said Hermione, looking back at the mountains.

"Do you even care who will win?" she asked, a moment after Draco had opened up their books.

"Nope," he answered. "I suppose _you_ do though—it is after all _your_ house."

She sensed the resentment in his tone but chose to ignore it and shook her head simply.

"I don't really care for Quidditch."

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head at her.

"Well, you should…it's the best game there is."

"If it is so good, then why didn't you—?"

"I will next year, alright?"

Hermione giggled girlishly.

"You know," said Draco a little while later, "I only did well on that test because of you."

"No need to thank me," said Hermione. "Just don't let that house separation nonsense get to your head and we'll be just fine."

"It's just hard," sighed Draco.

"I know," said Hermione. "But hey, look at me!—it doesn't bother _me_ one bit and I'm fine."

"How come?"

"Because of moments like these!"

She waved her hands around the tower and grinned at him.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, this is pretty great."

"Sure is."

They did homework in silence for the next twenty minutes or so, until Draco dropped his quill into his notebook and looked up again.

"Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"Have….have you noticed the way Lupin has been acting lately?"

She looked up at him curiously.

"Why would you ask something like that?"

"It's just…I don't know, he's not like any of the other professors."

"That, I will agree to," she said, bending over her notebook again.

"But he's also very strange…and only lately. He was fine before."

Hermione shrugged.

"Don't say you haven't noticed," said Draco, who'd be stupid to assume that. Hermione knew everything.

She looked up from her book and sighed.

"Okay, yes I have noticed—of course I've noticed…"

"Of course," said Draco.

"…but it's probably just because he's sick. I don't think it's anything else."

"Yeah, maybe," said Draco. "Or maybe he's plotting something."

"Nonsense!"

"Hey, you say it's nonsense—I say that's exactly what this school needs…a little bit of drama."

Hermione punched him playfully on the shoulder and he laughed. It felt really, really, really good to be doing this again—him making jokes and her punching him playfully. Though it had only been a few weeks, it honestly felt like they hadn't done this in ages. He'd really missed his friend.

Suddenly, a faded roar sounded from the Quidditch pitch. Hermione jumped to her feet and hung over the railing, peering for a good look. She could hear the faint "GRYFFINDOR WINS! GRYFFINDOR WINS! GRYFFINDOR WIIINS!"

"Yes!" she cried. "We won!"

"Congratulations," Draco muttered into his notebook. "I thought you didn't care about Quidditch."

"I don't," said Hermione, turning to look at him now. "But we did just procure at least 150 more points than you, my Slytherin friend."

Draco looked up at her at these words.

She beamed at him.

* * *

 **AN:** **Replies to your theories on the remaining Horcrux:  
**

 ** _EmilyWoods_ and _Bestgirlever_ , the diary would definitely force a repeat of the Chamber of Secrets events from the original plotline. That's true.**

 ** _9linn8_ , I have a feeling that something will persuade Draco to play eventually ;) and interesting take on the Horcruxes. I definitely agree with your point on Dumbledore not knowing where the room of requirement is...I'm also sure none of the Marauders ever found it either ;) **

**Finally, I won't reveal which Horcrux remains just yet, but I will say this...whichever one it is, it will force Harry and Draco to work together, whether they like it or not. With that in mind, anyone want to change their answer?**


	7. Year 1: Halloween Feast

**Author's Note: I have carefully planned out every chapter in this story so one by one, I will gradually be revealing what happened to the Horcruxes. Expect a lot of clues and foreshadowing (but probably not this early on though). Happy reading!**

 **Also, I apologise in advance for spelling/grammar mistakes, if any. I write most of these chapters at night and usually edit them in the early hours of the morning.**

 **Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks**

* * *

CHAPTER 7: YEAR 1—HALLOWEEN FEAST

* * *

 _Harry_

* * *

After the Quidditch match, Harry's fame improved on a massive scale, if it were even possible. The Gryffindors seemed to simply worship him. They carried him on their shoulders whenever he came into the common room. They opened doors for him and they even offered their own copies of the _Daily Prophet_ newspaper to him at breakfast. Ron was also enjoying a new level of fame. Everyone in the school now knew him as the Prodigal Weasley and even Fred and George were getting a little jealous now.

A few days after the first winning match, Harry received a letter from his father that looked as though it had been scribbled very quickly:

 _Harry,_

 _I'm really sorry, son, that I couldn't make it to your first match. I was really swamped at work, but I promise that I will be there the next time and the time after that. If it helps, Moony told me all about it and it sounds as though you were brilliant. Congrats! I'm really proud of you, though I would've been proud even if you hadn't won._

 _Nimbus 2000, eh? Nice choice. Try out the comet for your next game. I'd love to hear if it works well. On second thought, try it out during practice—don't want to risk a new broom during a real match._

 _Say hello to Neville from me,_

 _Dad_

Truth be told, Harry was okay with it. He admired his father's job at the Auror office so much that it didn't bother him that he was unable to make it to silly school things like these. Besides, there'd be plenty more games.

What did bother him however, was something that he stumbled upon quite accidentally, one night in the common room. After a particularly exhausting day, Harry, Ron, and Neville had settled themselves on the couches to tackle another one of Snape's horrid essays. It was late, they were tired, and they wanted nothing better than to ditch it and go to bed. And at about half past 11, Neville did just that. He got up, stretched and yawned, then bid the other two a goodnight and went up to the dormitory.

"I wonder what ever made Snape such a git," said Ron, who was glaring down at his roll of parchment.

"I dunno," shrugged Harry. "Dad says it's mid-life crisis."

Ron frowned.

"But weren't your parents his classmates?"

"Yep," said Harry, grinning.

At midnight, they yawned at the same time. They were exactly where they had been two hours before with their essays—having written just a few sentences.

"It's useless," said Ron. "Maybe we could borrow Neville's work?"

"Yeah, maybe," said Harry, reaching over to the messy pile that Neville had left behind on the little coffee table beside them. He shoved aside some papers and paused. There was something lying amidst a mountain of transfiguration notes and a copy of one of Hermione's famous study guides. Harry recognised the writing even upside down, and held up the letter under the candlelight.

"What's that?" said Ron, but Harry quickly shushed him.

 _Neville,_

 _First, I'm really glad you wrote to me. Lord knows Lily and I have missed you a great deal. I hope you are enjoying your time there. Harry's told me you don't like Quidditch that much. That's okay, everybody's different. I still love you son, no matter what. And Lily is most proud with your grades. You know we consider you a biological son, right? You are not just a godson to us. I want you to understand that._

 _I know it's been really difficult lately, what with the anniversary of that dreadful night fast approaching. You must be really missing your mother and father. Augusta phoned me the other day, saying that she absolutely refuses to take you to St. Mungo's to see them. I understand where she's coming from, but I want you to know that if you should wish it, I will take you there myself. I don't see you as a child anymore. I see you as a little man and I think you are old enough to make this decision for yourself. I don't know much about being basically an orphan at a young age (my parents died when I was already grown) but I can understand how difficult it must be and I deeply appreciate your honesty about it_.

 _I don't think I've ever quite told you this, but you remind me so much of Remus when he was younger. It's almost funny how much you remind me of him. He too, thought that Sirius and I were just a couple of hooligans, always chasing after the girls and the Quidditch. He was always on our backs to be good and to study hard. I suppose, by your descriptions, Harry and Ron are clones of our youths. It's funny how that worked out. You three are the continued versions of us three._

 _I remember everything about your childhood, you know. I remember the day you were born. Lily insisted on coming to the hospital, even though she was expecting Harry any day. While Frank paced around the waiting room nervously, we sat there with Alice for hours. One minute you were inside of her and the next, you were here—this tiny little thing. A miracle, if you will. I'll never forget that day...and then 12 hours later, Harry came into the world as well. From that moment on, you two were my everything. You see, Alice and Frank had already told Lily and me by then that we were the chosen Godparents._

 _I know we hardly ever speak of them. We just miss them so much. They had been our best friends for years and years before. So many Christmases spent together and so many nights sitting in the living room, laughing about our days at Hogwarts. I can only hope that one day in the future, that will be you and Harry with your own families._

 _Please let me know the second you get that urge to run away again, and I'll be at Hogwarts faster than you can say "Let's go Trevor". I miss you, Neville. Write again soon. I love you._

 _James_

Harry stared blankly at the slightly shaking piece of paper in his hand. It was too close to the candle now and at the risk of getting caught on fire.

"Harry, what is it?" said Ron's voice from afar, but Harry's mind was no longer in the common room with him.

* * *

"Are you alright Harry? You're very quiet today."

Harry looked up from his plate. Remus was smiling at him encouragingly from behind his desk. Harry shrugged slightly and proceeded with his food.

The two had begun a little tradition back when school had only just started. Every Tuesday, they ate lunch together in Remus' office—just the two of them. It gave both of them something to look forward to each week. But today, Remus was eyeing Harry suspiciously, and Harry knew that he would not let him leave here without spilling what was bothering him. After a few more silent minutes, he laid down his knife and fork and looked up at Remus.

"I found something the other day," he began.

Remus put down his knife and fork too and leaned forwards, fully alert. And so, Harry proceeded to tell him exactly what was in that letter James had written Neville. Remus listened carefully without interrupting. When Harry was done, Remus leaned back in his chair and watched him.

"It just bothers me a lot and I don't even know why," Harry concluded.

Remus nodded.

"Harry, have you ever thought that maybe Neville was moving in on your territory?"

Harry frowned.

"Perhaps he is, in some way, replacing you as James' and Lily's son?"

"No, of course not," said Harry. Though, he knew for himself that was not completely true. The thought had indeed crossed his mind before—on Christmases or birthdays—and he was definitely not proud of it.

"He doesn't have parents in his life and your parents are like his parents," Remus went on. "And your birthdays are literally hours apart and you spent so much time near each other every year of your childhoods." He paused to look at Harry. "It's only natural for you to feel this way sometimes, Harry."

"I'm not proud of it," said Harry, quietly.

Remus smiled.

"I know, son. And that is what's so great about you. You always want to make everyone else happy and when you yourself experience a completely normal human emotion, you still feel guilty. But you mustn't put yourself through that. The time will come when you will see Neville as one of your closest and best mates."

"I already do!" exclaimed Harry. "Don't get me wrong—he is like a brother to me! I don't even see him as just a friend anymore. I really feel like we are related by blood!"

He paused to look around the room again before continuing.

"It just bothers me that he wanted to run away. He didn't say anything to me and I've known him all my life. We—Ron and me—noticed that he was acting odd of course but we chose to give him space. But it really bothers me that he was going to run away and he didn't say anything to us. I...I thought he was my friend.

Remus sighed.

"I just...I wish that he had talked to me about it. I wish that he was honest."

"Try to put yourself in his position, Harry," said Remus. "You have had your parents by you your whole life. Neville has not."

"But he—"

"I know he had Godparents all those years but it's really not the same thing, if you take into consideration the fact that his own parents are still alive...damaged, but alive."

Harry sighed.

"But he never even talks about them!"

"He's only seen them a handful of times," said Remus, sadly. "Augusta Longbottom is very strict on keeping him away so that he won't see what they have become."

"W-what have they become?" Harry dared to ask.

Remus hesitated.

"The most I will say is that they hardly recognise him as their son anymore."

Harry shuddered at the thought. It really was awful.

"Listen," said Remus, leaning forwards again. "It looks like you and Neville need to have a talk. I could tell him for you if you want."

"No," said Harry, quickly. "No, don't do that."

"Fair enough," said Remus, nodding. "But promise me that you will voice these concerns to him."

"I will," said Harry. "But not yet."

They ate in silence for the next little while, until Harry looked up again.

"Am I really like dad when he was younger?"

Remus smiled.

"Exactly, that it's almost frightening," he said.

Harry grinned slightly and looked down at his plate again.

"Alright," said Remus. He glanced at the little muggle clock that Lily had given him and then grabbed his wand and tapped the dishes in front of him, making them vanish into thin air. "You'd better get going if you're going to make it to Charms on time."

"Kay," said Harry, rising to his feet. "Thanks for the talk, Moony."

"Anytime. I'll see you at the celebration feast tonight?"

"Yep," said Harry.

He turned to leave, then stopped at the door and looked at Remus again.

"What is it?" said Remus, kindly.

"How are you feeling?" said Harry, after a moment's struggle for the right words.

Remus frowned and then nodded his head.

"I know it's the 31st and it's supposed to happen tonight but I feel quite fine, actually."

Harry grew worried. He did not believe Remus for a second.

"It's alright," said Remus, reassuringly. "It's all just part of the cycle. Go on."

"Bye."

Harry walked back to the common room alone to collect his books and things. Ron would probably head down to Charms straight from the Great Hall, so he would just meet him there. As he walked, Harry thought hard. Had he done the right thing, telling Remus about this? Truth be told, he wished it had been Sirius whom he told. He was the one Harry told the really important stuff to. Exactly how long had it been since his last letter from Sirius? The last he recalled, that letter came way before the Quidditch match and that was already over a week ago.

The common room was completely deserted at this time of day. Everyone was either in class or wandering about the castle, enjoying the various Halloween decorations. Harry found his bag on the floor by the couch and his books scattered on the coffee table. He packed them together and was just about to head out when he heard the portrait hole slide open and Ron coming in—looking utterly flushed—followed by an awkward-looking Neville and…

"Hermione?" said Harry, confused.

The door closed again and the four of them stood in the middle of the common room.

"What…" began Harry, but Ron joined his side, crossed his arms, and turned to glare at Hermione.

"Will you just leave me alone already?!" he cried.

"I was only saying it for your own good, you know!" she retaliated.

"What's going on?" said Harry, still confused.

"She's a nightmare!" exclaimed Ron. "Seamus and I were trying to turn a water goblet into rum—"

"Which is already a stupid thing to begin with," said Hermione.

"—and she started lecturing us about how we were doing it wrong—"

"If I don't tell you, how will you learn the proper way?"

"—and then I called her a goody-two shoes (because she is)—"

"I am not!"

"—and McGonagall was passing by and asked what was wrong and this one told her the whole thing from _her_ twisted version of what happened—"

"It was the _only_ version of what happened,"

"—and we each got 5 points taken off!"

Hermione was red with anger, as was Ron, and both had their arms crossed.

"You got 5 points taken from your _own house_!" Ron exclaimed.

"Well it was the right thing to do!" Hermione defended.

Harry had lost interest in this and was instead watching Neville, who was holding Trevor in both his hands and petting him absentmindedly as he watched Ron and Hermione quarrel.

"I can't believe you!" yelled Ron. "You make absolutely no sense!"

"Actually, I've been told I'm highly logical, so that would be contradictory, Ronald!" exclaimed Hermione, furiously.

"Oh yeah?" laughed Ron. "And who told you that? Your little Slytherin pal?"

"MAYBE!" yelled Hermione.

By now, Neville had noticed Harry's eyes on him and gave him an unconvincing smile. Harry smiled back but kept his eyes on him. He'd known Neville his whole life. If Neville really did have thoughts about running away, surely he wouldn't do it without saying goodbye to Harry, would he?

"…and while we're on the subject," Hermione said, angrily, "You might want to change the way you speak to him! You too, Harry!"

"What?" said Harry, blankly.

"Draco hasn't done anything to either of you!"

"Oh sure, speak for your little Slytherin pal," said Ron, mockingly. "He hasn't got it in him to talk to us directly."

"Ugh!" scoffed Hermione and she turned angrily on her heel and stomped out of the portrait hole, leaving Harry, Ron, and Neville alone.

"I swear I have never met someone more stubborn and uptight," said Ron, staring after Hermione.

"Yeah," said Harry, who was eyeing Neville suspiciously now. Neville looked very worried as he watched Harry. The two were having a silent conversation that Ron was not aware of.

"Come on," Ron finally growled, grabbing his own bag from under a table. "Let's get out of here."

The rest of the day passed on really slow. Maybe it was because the students were all very excited for the Halloween feast—especially the first years, who'd never had one before. Nevertheless, it seemed like years had passed before it was time to go to the Great Hall. Harry and Ron gaped at the beautiful pumpkins hanging from above as they took their seats at the Gryffindor table. Hermione, they noticed, was sitting at least 5 seats away from them. After Dumbledore's exuberant speech (during which Harry noticed that Remus was absent), the feast began and the students dived for their favourites. Harry and Ron talked to Fred and George about Quidditch and Seamus and Dean talked to Percy about the new rules he was enforcing, regarding leftover candy wrappers in the common room.

"Come on, Perce!" said Ron after a while. "Let them be. Go on."

"Sorry Ron, but as I am a prefect, I will be the judge of what shall be," said Percy firmly.

"I hope I can be as good a prefect as you someday, Percy," said Hermione, in a voice slightly louder than she normally would have used (no doubt to make sure Ron heard).

"Thank you, Hermione," said Percy kindly. "You should teach some of that attitude to my little brother here."

Ron scowled.

"Hey Nev," said Harry, suddenly. "Why don't you try some of these? They're really excellent."

He handed Neville the plate of orange truffles with an encouraging smile.

"Okay," said Neville, grabbing a few.

"And these are really good too," said Harry, handing him a square-shaped pumpkin donut.

"T-thanks," said Neville, who was now wearing a confused expression again.

"So," said Ron suddenly, biting into his candy apple. "Snape is really the only one who assigned homework on Halloween, isn't he?"

"Yeah," said Seamus, sadly.

"He's really overworking us!" said Dean.

"You think _you've_ got it bad?" said Fred. "Third years have it worse. Believe you me."

"He's only just doing his job," came Hermione's voice, which was met with a loud snort of Ron's.

"Anyway," said Ron, turning to Neville. "I'm really not up to doing any work tonight. Do you mind if I copy off of your worksheet, seeing as how you're already done?"

"Sure," said Neville.

"Thanks a lot," said Ron, grinning. "I don't know what I would do without you, mate. Thank god you're obsessed with school."

"He's not obsessed," said Harry, quickly.

"Well, you know what I mean," said Ron, lazily. "The way he's always doing nothing but homework and reading everywhere he goes—"

"There's nothing wrong with that!" said Harry again.

Ron blinked.

"I know," he said, slowly. "I was just saying."

"Here Nev," said Harry, handing him another truffle. "This one is to _die_ for."

"Right," said Neville, narrowing his eyes at Harry suspiciously.

"Jeez Harry, why don't you cut his food for him too?" said Seamus, earning a few laughs from the surrounding people.

Harry ignored them and looked at Neville again.

"You good?"

"Yes," said Neville, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Next, the ghosts performed a little routine for the evening's entertainment. The staff and students were delighted to watch and cheered afterwards. Soon, the night was over and the prefects were ushering the students back to their houses. Harry, Ron, Dean, and Seamus had agreed to sneak out afterwards to play a little Quidditch in the night, so they nodded at each other and proceeded to follow Percy back to the common room. Just before exiting the Great Hall however, Harry spotted the perfect opportunity to take Hermione's advice.

"Hey Malfoy!" he said.

The blond-haired boy paused. He stared at him as though he'd just come from another planet.

"Come here," said Harry.

Draco looked over his shoulder at his two fat friends, then approached Harry, his hands in his pockets.

"What do you want, Potter?" he said, lazily.

From the corner of his eye, Harry spotted Hermione freeze. She was watching them nervously.

"I just wanted to do a good deed," said Harry, casually, "And apologise for the way I have been behaving." He winked at Ron. "Draco, I'm sorry."

"Right," scoffed Malfoy.

"No really," said Harry, seriously. "I'm really sorry that I…you know, hurt your feelings…I had no idea you were so…you know…touchy."

"Shut up, Potter," said Malfoy.

"Why don't you come over here and make me?" Harry challenged.

"Oh, I will!" promised Malfoy.

In an instant, the both of them drew their wands and prepared to duel, right there in the Great Hall.

"MALFOY!"

The blond-haired boy turned around nervously. Severus Snape was standing over his shoulder, glaring furiously down at him. Malfoy's wand instantly lowered itself.

"Come with me," said Snape, darkly.

Malfoy looked at his friends nervously and then pocketed his wand.

"You can wipe that smirk off of your face, Potter," said Snape, turning his back on Harry. "Ten points from Gryffindor, and another detention. Tomorrow night, my office, 9 sharp."

"Yes, professor," said Harry, happily.

As it turns out, he didn't care about another detention—even if it was one for Snape. This had totally been worth it. Grinning broadly, he high-fived Ron and followed him up to the common room.

They sat at various couches and busied themselves until everyone else would go to bed. Harry made a point of sitting next to Neville by the fireplace.

"You good?" Neville asked after a while, noticing how Harry had been watching him ever since they'd gotten back to the common room, which was at least an hour ago.

"Yep!" said Harry, suddenly. "Never better, you?"

"I'm alright," said Neville, shrugging.

"Just alright?" said Harry, nervously.

Neville stared at him.

"Harry, what's up with—?"

"Ahem!"

Harry turned around. Hermione was standing over him, her arms crossed again.

"What do _you_ want?" said Ron, beside Harry.

"I believe I was talking to Harry, not you Ronald," said Hermione, without looking at him.

"No, you _ahem_ -ed at him actually," Ron muttered, so that only Harry could hear.

"What's up?" said Harry.

"That was really unnecessary, what you did back there," said Hermione, boldly.

"Like we care what _your_ opinion is," said Ron, defiantly.

"I don't believe I was talking to you, Ronald," said Hermione. "And anyway, I expected more from you, Harry."

"Excuse me?" said Harry, smirking at her.

"I thought at least _you_ were decent."

"You can't tell me what to do," said Harry. "You're not my mother, Hermione."

"In case you haven't noticed," Ron added, quietly.

"I wouldn't want to be," said Hermione, simply. "Now then…I just so happened to overhear your plan to sneak out tonight."

"Don't you dare go telling on us now!" hissed Ron.

Harry waved an arm to silence him and looked up at Hermione.

"You won't, will you?" he asked, rather darkly.

She hesitated for a moment.

"I won't offer any information but if I am questioned, I won't lie!" she finally said, a hint of pink in her cheeks.

"Or you could just say you know nothing," offered Harry.

Hermione looked appalled.

"I would _never_ lie!"

"Liar!" exclaimed Ron.

"When have I ever lied?!" exclaimed Hermione.

"You would lie for that Slytherin pal of yours!" said Ron.

"I would not!" gasped Hermione.

"Um, yeah you would," said Harry, calmly. Hermione glared at him. "Well, it's true. He's an _angel_ , in your eyes."

"Well fine!" exclaimed Hermione, hotly. "If you don't want to grow up, I won't make you! Goodnight!"

And she was off again, stomping up the stairs to her dormitory.

"See ya!" Ron yelled after her.

Harry chuckled and turned back around in his seat. People were starting to go to bed. The plan was working.

"Soon," sighed Ron, happily. "Very, very soon."

"Yeah," said Harry, spreading his arms on both sides of the couch and staring off into the fireplace. It was going to be one heck of a night.

"Well," said Neville, closing his book and jumping to his feet. "I think I'll go to bed."

"You don't want to come watch?" said Harry, suddenly.

"Nah," said Neville. "Too tired. Night."

"Night," said Ron.

"Goodnight Nev!" said Harry. Neville did a sort of double-take, nodded, and headed up to the dormitory. As soon as he was gone, Ron turned to Harry.

" _What_ is up with _you_ tonight?"

"What?" said Harry.

"Him!" said Ron, pointing at where Neville had disappeared. "All night, you're acting like he's going to break any minute!"

"I'm just looking out for my friend," said Harry, sitting back in his armchair and opening up a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ , pretending to read.

Ron was not fooled. He yanked the paper out from his friend's hands and stared at him.

"What?" said Harry.

"Talk," Ron demanded.

Harry looked around the common room. There were only a few people left and none of them were even in their year. They were all preoccupied with their own books, cards, and newspapers. Harry turned back to Ron. He could trust him—he knew that much. Feeling slightly nervous, he told Ron all about what he'd found in that letter. He told him about his talk with Remus and he explained his actions down at the feast. By the time Harry was finished, Ron looked as delighted as though he'd just solved a puzzle.

"So now you know," concluded Harry.

"Makes sense," said Ron, thoughtfully. He frowned suddenly, and looked at Harry. "You don't think he'd really do it, do you? I mean…you know…"

"Run away? I don't know," said Harry, truthfully. "It bothers me that he didn't talk to me about it. I don't even know why he's thinking about this."

"But he's not, is he?"

"What?"

"Thinking about it."

"Um yeah, he is!" said Harry, confused. "Weren't you listening to a word I said?"

"Weren't _you_?" said Ron. Harry sat up. "He _was_ thinking about it. But he's not anymore, is he? I mean, your dad told him to write the next time he feels like this, didn't he?"

"Yeah," said Harry, slowly, realisation sinking into his brain. "Yeah, you're right."

"So," said Ron. "Any idea why he thought about it?"

Harry shrugged. He bit his lip nervously, looked around the common room again, and then leaned towards Ron.

"You don't think that maybe it could've been because of _us_ , do you?"

"Why would it be?" said Ron, confused.

"I dunno," said Harry, "We haven't really been very sensitive lately…"

"Maybe we could cut it down a tad…" Ron suggested.

The last of the Gryffindors went up to bed and precisely a minute later, Seamus and Dean came running down the stairs with Harry's broomsticks.

"Okay, you take the Nimbus 2000 Seamus," said Harry, handing it to him, "Ron, you have the Sweepstakes. Dean, you take the Nimbus 1700. I'll take the Comet."

"Let's go!" hissed Dean, and they were off.

Quidditch in the nighttime was such a joyous experience. Harry felt so free to fly and disappear into the night. There was no one else watching them and Harry had been clever enough to cast the _Muffliato_ spell around the pitch so that they could shout and cheer as much as they wanted and not be caught by teachers.

"This is amaaaaaaazing!" shouted Ron as he zoomed on by Harry, twisting wildly around in the Sweepstakes.

Harry chuckled and dashed forwards for the snitch he'd nicked earlier. He performed some of his favourite tricks—which Sirius had taught him—and earned himself a couple of really loud cheers from Ron, Dean, and Seamus. Harry's stomach hurtled again as he flew by the hoops. Not hearing from Sirius was really unsettling. But he threw that thought aside a minute later when he finally got his hands on the snitch, securing his and Ron's victory against Seamus and Dean. Harry high-fived Ron as they landed on the ground at the same time. It had been the best Halloween Harry could remember—certainly better than that time he'd had to battle the most evil dark wizard of all time.

November passed in a relatively quick pace, bringing with it occasional snow that sprinkled the castle grounds. The air got instantly cooler and it was now impossible to go outside without a scarf and hat, at the very least. Neville's mood seemed to brighten up just a bit as the weeks went by, so after a while, Harry relaxed and started treating him normally again. Despite what Remus had suggested, Harry didn't tell Neville anything about the letter. He decided it was best to just leave it, for the time being. Remus also looked to be in a much better mood, now that he'd overcome his cycle and was back to his old self again. Despite the fact that Sirius had still not written to Harry, and Harry was growing extremely worried, things were very good.

As November moved closer to December, Moony's mood worsened again, indicating that he was approaching another cycle. Again, Ron noticed and questioned Harry about the strange professor…and Harry was running out of things to say.

"You know him better than anyone else in this school," said Ron as he, Harry, Seamus, Dean, and Neville walked to Transfiguration on a snowy morning.

"Neville knows him too," Harry muttered.

"Go on, tell us, Harry," Ron urged.

"W-well what are _your_ theories?" Neville interjected, and Harry was grateful that he had because, for just a split second, the thought of telling Ron the truth had actually crossed Harry's mind.

"I don't think he's really a wizard," said Ron, smartly.

"You don't?" said Harry.

"No," said Ron. "A wizard would be able to remedy such a problem in the blink of an eye."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Harry thought.

"I think he's something else…but I don't know what…" said Ron, scratching his head of red hair.

But Harry was momentarily distracted by a small white figure hovering on the outside of a stained-glass window in the corridor.

"Hedwig!" he exclaimed, rushing past students towards her. "You guys go on, I'll see you later!"

"Okay!" Ron called back, and the boys made their way to charms without Harry.

Harry pulled open the window and let Hedwig in. She landed on his shoulder and nibbled on his ear.

"Alright, alright," said Harry, laughing. "I'm sorry I haven't visited more often."

He untied the letter attached to her leg and petted her.

"Go back to the owlry. Go on."

She stayed on his shoulder for a few seconds as he sat on a corner bench and unfolded the letter, and then she soared off into the snow. Harry's heart stopped once he'd unfolded the letter and recognised the handwriting as Sirius'. He'd really gotten too nervous about the silence. He was even prepared to write to his parents about it if a letter didn't show up in a week. Throwing charms class aside, he began to read the long-awaited letter:

 _Harry,_

 _There is something I need to tell you, son. First, I apologise for not writing sooner. I needed time to think about how I was going to break this to you. Second, I need you to understand how important you are to me and how much I think of you as a son. I was there when you were born. I bought you your first broomstick. I taught you all the little bubbles of James' and Lily's that you could burst whenever you wanted something. I need you to remember all of this after you finish reading this letter (which, I promise you, is one of the hardest ones I've ever had to write)._

 _You asked me if the name Malfoy was familiar, and I'm not going to lie. It is more familiar than you will like, I expect. You see, growing up, Reg and I had these two horrible cousins. I hated the lot of them. Bellatrix and Narcissa. They rarely came over but when they did, I became 'ickle-little-Siri-poo'. After the war broke out, they married Death Eaters and joined Voldemort's ranks. Narcissa became the wife of Lucius Malfoy and together, they had a son born the same year as you. I suppose that makes me some kind of an uncle to him._

 _I know that this comes as a shock, Harry. I'd have told you this sooner but I didn't think it was important. Lucius and Narcissa lost everything after Voldemort died, and I never imagined they'd send their son to Hogwarts. Anyway, there is more to this story—so much more that I dare say it will be unjust to put it in writing—so I suppose I'll fill you in on the rest over the holidays._

 _Hope you are doing well. Please remember how much I love you._

 _Sirius_

* * *

 _Draco_

* * *

"Ugh!" cried Hermione, throwing down her transfiguration book with a frustrated glare.

"Still nothing?" said Draco, without looking up from his Potions book.

"I've been trying to memorise it for a full week!" said Hermione, shoving the book away from her.

"Let me see that," said Draco, taking it his hands.

They were sitting on the carpet in between the medieval and classical aisles at the library. It was a late Saturday night and the library would close any minute. The two of them had been studying there all day, in preparation for Monday's mid-term exam. Hermione was growing really frustrated with the transfiguration formula that Professor McGonagall was teaching them earlier.

"Really, it's not that difficult," said Draco, after examining the diagram in the book for the hundredth time. "Transformation (t) is directly influenced by bodyweight (a), viciousness (v), wand power (w), concentration (c), and…."

"Yes?" said Hermione, eyeing him curiously. "What _is_ the sixth variable supposed to represent, Draco?"

"I don't know," he answered, frowning at the book. "It doesn't say."

"See?" said Hermione, angrily. "Exactly what I was talking about—that's it, I'm doomed."

"You're not doomed," said Draco, rolling his eyes at her. "It's just one question!"

"It could be the one question that makes the difference between a pass and a fail!" said Hermione, bitterly. "I'm going to be expelled from Hogwarts on Monday."

"Awe come on, relax a little," said Draco, shutting the heavy book.

"Two minutes!" called Madame Pince from a few shelves over.

Nodding, Draco and Hermione got their feet and packed up their things. He walked her back to Gryffindor tower and she bid him goodnight. Back in his own common room, he found Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise Zabini sitting by the fireplace, building a house of cards.

"Evening," said Draco, slumping on the couch next to them with his eyes closed.

"Hi Malfoy!" said Crabbe, happily. "Wanna play?"

Draco opened his eyes and scanned the house of cards.

"I'm tired," he answered, resting his head back again.

"Where were you all day? We looked for you!" said Goyle.

"Out," said Draco, with his eyes closed.

"With _her_ again?" said Blaise.

Draco opened his eyes and glared at him.

"So what if I was?"

"It's dangerous," said Blaise, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"What do _you_ care?" demanded Draco.

"It's embarrassing for our house, mate!" said Blaise.

"I'm not your mate," said Draco, boldly, and he got up, threw his bag over his shoulder, and marched up to his dormitory, ignoring Crabbe and Goyle calling after him.

He felt bad for the Slytherins. Like his mother and father, they were too narrow-minded and ignorant to what was really important in life…too hung up on blood status and social class. He could not understand how Hermione was able to handle all this prejudice so well. Perhaps she hadn't been quite hit by it just yet. But, as Draco got into bed and drew the curtains around him, he got the strong feeling that someday soon, she would be.

"Now, now, first years, there is no reason to panic," said Professor Slughorn as he made his way over to the front of the classroom on Monday morning's Potions lesson. "Just because it is a mid-term exam, it does not mean that it's the end of the world."

"Professor!" said Millicent Bulstrode. "When will we be writing it? And in what room?"

"Next week on Tuesday, in this classroom, my dear," answered Slughorn. "Now, it has been brought to my attention that many of you do not plan to study." He smiled stupidly. "I understand that I have a certain reputation at the school and that it may have something to do with the fact that students generally prefer _me_ as a potions teacher rather than scary old Professor Snape," he paused for a moment to chuckle at his own little joke. Then, he coughed, hiccupped, and continued, "However, it is still of vital importance that you prepare yourselves for this exam. The way you perform in your first year will strongly determine your academic performance in future years!"

As the professor continued to ramble on about the upcoming exam, Blaise leaned towards Draco sitting next to him.

"Have you given any thought to what I said earlier?" he whispered.

"What about?" Draco whispered back, his eyes still on the professor and his hand moving on the paper in front of him, copying down vague notes.

"The muggle-born girly, of course," said Blaise.

"Don't call her that," said Draco, sharply, but in a low voice. "Her name is Hermione."

"Whatever," said Blaise. "The bushy-haired Granger." Draco sighed. "Have you given any thought to it?"

"I have," said Draco.

"And?"

"And I've decided I'm going to keep talking to her."

Blaise sighed.

"You obviously aren't going to learn until something bad happens."

Draco looked at him.

"And what is supposed to happen exactly?" he said, a hint of worry in his voice.

"Oh, you know how Slytherins are," said Blaise, waving his hand with nonsense. "You never know what to expect from them."

"Now you listen here, Zabini," hissed Draco. "If you so much as touch a hair on her head, I swear to—"

"Relax, Malfoy," Blaise interrupted. "I don't plan on doing anything—that's not my style."

"It better not be," warned Draco. "A few extra house points are not worth getting a beating out of me."

Blaise raised his eyebrows, and even after Draco resumed his writing, he could feel his eyes still on him.

"What?" he said after a while.

"Nothing," shrugged Blaise, a small smile on his face. "I'm just impressed."

"With what?"

"With _you_ —you're very…what's the word?...unpredictable."

Draco scoffed.

"It's fascinating, really," Blaise added after a moment's silence.

"Whatever," said Draco.

"SO!" said Slughorn, moving closer to their table. "Having another little chitchat, are we?"

"No," said Draco and Blaise together.

"Come now, boys, this is important! You've got to be listening!"

"We were listening," said Draco.

"Really?" said Slughorn, apparently amused. "Well then, enlighten us, Mr. Malfoy. What is the Wiggenweld Potion?"

"A healing solution, sir," said Draco, lazily.

"That's too broad for my liking, boy," said Slughorn, smirking. "Please list the exact instructions required to brew this complicated potion. Go on."

Draco sighed and got to his feet. He straightened up and looked at the class.

"Add salamander blood 'till the potion turns red, then stir 'till it becomes orange. Add more blood 'till it turns yellow and stir 'till it becomes green. Add more blood 'till it turns turquoise, then heat it 'till it turns indigo. Add more blood 'till it turns pink, then heat 'till it turns red again. Then add five lionfish spines and heat 'till the potion turns yellow again. Add five more lionfish spines and flobberworm mucus 'till it turns purple, then stir 'till it becomes red. Add more flobberworm mucus, this time until it turns orange and stir 'till it turns yellow. Then shake and add 'till it turns orange again, and then add honeywater 'till it turns turquoise. Heat until it turns pink and finally, add the last touch of salamander blood until the potion turns its finishing colour: green."

Slughorn was absolutely finished by the time Draco was done and took his seat again. His mouth hung open and his eyes had grown very, very round.

"Ah, well done, my dear boy!" he exclaimed, clapping hard. The class slowly joined him in on the applause but Draco merely kept his head bent over his Potions book.

"Take 30 points to Slytherin!" exclaimed Slughorn, before continuing on with his lesson.

"Way to go, Malfoy!" exclaimed Crabbe.

"How on earth did you know all that?" said Blaise, in a hushed whisper again.

"The muggle-born girly," said Draco, mimicking his voice from before.

Blaise said nothing.

The Transfiguration exam later that day was the scariest thing Draco had ever had to do. He sat at the desk, his heart pounding nervously, the hourglass at the front practically shouting at him. Sitting a few seats to the right was Hermione, her head bent over her paper as she scribbled furiously. Professor McGonagall had transformed into her cat state and was sitting on her desk, watching the students intently.

After the exam, the students burst out of the classroom and fell into an instant rant about the test's difficulty. Draco was pushed and shoved in the crowd as everyone hurried to the Great Hall for lunch. He tried to find Hermione to discuss the exam with her but he couldn't see over the heads of the others. Finally, having been pushed the whole way to the Great Hall, he emerged from the crowd and settled himself on the edge of the Slytherin table. It wasn't long before Crabbe and Goyle sat across from him, joined also by Blaise (who took the empty seat next to Draco).

Draco ignored their unimportant conversations and kept his eyes on the Gryffindor table. Hermione was not there. It was not like her to be late to something, even if it was just lunch. Crabbe and Goyle guffawed at something apparently hilarious and Draco shushed them instantly, feeling Blaise's eyes on him.

"She's not here," said Blaise after a moment. Draco watched him pile food onto his plate. "Your little Gryffindor stayed after class to properly thank McGonagall for giving such an easy exam."

Draco sighed of relief. He was beginning to picture Hermione crying in the girls' bathroom because of something that Potter or Weasley said.

Sure enough, Hermione waltzed into the Great Hall seconds later, looking happier than an owl. She seated herself next to a couple of Gryffindors and began laughing with them instantly, paying no attention to the Slytherin table whatsoever.

"Such a shame," said Blaise, following Draco's eyes to Hermione. "I was so sure she'd come over here and talk to you about the test."

"You should mind your own business, Blaise," said Draco. He then grabbed his bag and jumped from the table.

"Where are you going, Malfoy?" said Crabbe, but Draco did not reply.

He walked out of the Great Hall, thinking about the point in sorting people into houses. Was there a point to it at all? He meant to go to the common room for his break, but instead ended up on the steps to Snape's office. Feeling quite nervous, he knocked on the door three times.

"Yes?" said a voice from within.

Draco pushed open the door and peered inside. The room was dimly dark, with only a few lit candles here and there. Snape was sitting at his desk, writing in a notebook. He shut it instantly upon Draco's entrance and tapped it with his wand, making it disappear.

"What are you doing here, Draco?"

"I thought we could…you know, talk," said Draco, quietly.

"Shut the door behind you," said Snape.

Draco did as he was told and took the seat across from the professor, dropping his bag to the floor.

"What do you want to talk about?"

Draco bit his lip.

"I was just wondering what you thought of the whole sorting business."

"What about it?" said Snape, looking surprised.

"Well you know," said Draco. "What do you think of it?"

"Why are you asking this?"

Draco paused.

"I've been thinking lately and doubting that it has any purpose."

"It doesn't," said Snape, surprising Draco a great deal. He said it so casually too. He crossed his arms and sat back. "The Sorting Ceremony is a stupid tradition thought of long ago—back when the school first opened. And because of people's obsession with tradition, it stuck around."

"I hate it," said Draco.

"I do too," said Snape. "Are you unhappy in Slytherin, Draco?"

"No, of course not!" said Draco, quickly. "I got what I wanted when I came here. But…"

"But Ms. Granger did not."

"No," said Draco, shaking his head. "And it's been really hard to stay friends. We fight more now because we're in two different houses with completely different views on things."

"I understand," said Snape.

"Do you really?" said Draco.

"Yes," said Snape. He looked in pain when he uttered the word, and instantly distracted himself with shuffling papers on his desk. Draco eyed the calendar on the wall behind him. Tomorrow would be Halloween. Perhaps he'd have a chance to meet with Hermione then?

"How are your classes going?" said Snape, after a while.

"Fine," shrugged Draco. "Potions is a complete joke."

"Yes," agreed Snape. " _That_ class is."

"We barely learn anything real!"

"I am sorry for that.

"Me too."

They were quiet again, as Snape continued to organise the sheets on his desk. Draco watched him for a while, thinking hard.

"How are _your_ classes?" he asked.

Snape looked up at him.

"The most annoying bunch of first years I've ever met," he replied.

Draco smirked.

"Why do you stick around here then?"

"Dumbledore wants me to," said Snape, but something about the way he delivered that answer—almost automatically—indicated to Draco that he wasn't exactly telling the truth... that it was simply an answer he'd rehearsed many times before.

"I hope it's not because of _me_ ," he offered.

"Don't be silly, Draco," said Snape, instantly. "Dumbledore did a lot for me during the war and now I must repay him."

Draco stared at him.

"What?"

"Nothing…it's just…well, you never talk about the war."

Snape frowned.

"What do you want to know?"

"Not much," shrugged Draco. "So like…oh I don't know…what was it like?"

"Dreadful," said Snape, at once. "It was a very frightening time to be alive. You had to be really careful with who you associated yourself with. You had to monitor everything that you said in public, so that nothing could work against you. And every day, as you waited for your loved ones to write, you prayed that they were still alive and well."

"That was the normal civilian experience," Draco pointed out. "W-what about…the Death Eater experience?"

Snape paused. He had never told Draco anything of his days as a Death Eater. It was a subject they avoided altogether.

"I think you're better to have this conversation with your mother and father," he finally said.

Draco looked down.

"I would if they were writing to me."

"What? Do you mean to say that they haven't written you?"

Draco shook his head. Snape watched him intently, considering him.

"You couldn't just be called a Death Eater," he finally said. "You had to really _be_ one. Do Death Eater things. Otherwise, you were strongly suspected to be a spy. There were many in our ranks that were tortured and killed because they were found out."

"But you were never found out?"

"I knew how to behave myself," said Snape, simply. "And I was always under Dumbledore's instructions. I knew I was safe."

Draco hesitated at his next question.

"Sev," he said, taking a deep breath. "Do you…do you ever regret joining... in the first place?"

Snape's black eyes bore into Draco's blue ones. Maybe it was just the darkness of the room or the candlelight illuminating from the side, but Draco suddenly realised how much Snape looked like a broken man. What on earth had he been put through, all those years ago?

"Every day."

The following day, Draco looked for Hermione wherever he went. He wanted to at least have a chance to discuss that Transfiguration mid-term, but she was absolutely nowhere in sight. It was as if she had vanished from Hogwarts overnight. Sensing his frustration, Crabbe and Goyle persuaded him to play Exploding Snap with them in the common room, just before the big Halloween feast. Draco wasn't sure why he agreed to it, but he couldn't deny that it was quite enjoyable to beat them. In any case, it was a nice way to spend time until the feast.

When they finally entered the Great Hall at 7 o'clock that night, they were completely mesmerised. The Halloween decorations were draped on all the walls and gorgeous pumpkins hung above the four house tables. Draco followed the rest of the Slytherins to their table and sat down, still with his mouth open. After Dumbledore's short little speech, the feast appeared on all the four tables, making the students gasp with excitement. Draco wasn't sure he'd ever seen so much colourful food. He proceeded to fill his plate at once and, feeling in slightly better spirits tonight, he actually listened in on the conversations going on around him.

A second year girl was explaining to Millicent Bulstrode why the Bloody Baron always conducted the annual Halloween ghost performances. Crabbe and Goyle were arguing about who'd seen the black and orange truffles plate first. A fifth year prefect was telling a group of second year boys about some village called Hogsmeade that they would get to visit next year. The only people around Draco that weren't in the midst of conversation were Blaise and Pansy Parkinson. The two of them were eating their food and casually casting sideways glances at Draco. After a while, he grew tired of this and dropped his knife and fork on his plate.

"What?" he finally said, looking from one to the other.

"Nothing," they said together.

"Just thinking," said Pansy.

"And observing," added Blaise.

"Interesting," said Draco. "Did you guys rehearse this or something?"

"We're not that interested," said Pansy, shrewdly. She then flipped her long black hair, making it slap Draco in the face, and turned her back on him to listen in on Millicent's conversation.

"You still hung up on the muggleborn, Malfoy?" said Blaise.

"Will you stop calling her that?" said Draco, annoyed. "And I'm not hung up on her—we're friends."

"Right," said Blaise. "So you'll continue to be friends then, yes?"

"Yes," said Draco, defiantly. "You got a problem with that?"

"Not at all."

"Good."

"Hey Malfoy!" said Goyle, turning away from Crabbe. "Malfoy, hey Malfoy!"

"What do you want, Goyle?" said Draco, lazily.

"You have to try one of these truffles!" said Goyle, holding one out for him. "Go on. Have a go."

"I'm full," said Draco, immediately.

"The feast just started," said Pansy, frowning at him.

"I thought you were busy being not that interested," Draco pointed out.

"I'm not," she said, firmly.

Draco rolled his eyes at her and continued to eat, being very careful not to look up at the Gryffindor table.

"We're not saying you have to curse her or anything," said Blaise, suddenly. "But you do need to ditch her."

Draco looked at him but said nothing.

"You may not see it now, but it is just _not_ normal for Slytherins to associate with Gryffindors."

"I agree," came Marcus Flint's voice, a little louder than Draco would have preferred. "Sooner or later, Malfoy, you're going to see what we were talking about."

"And I'm sure when that day comes, you'll all be glorified to say 'I told you so'," said Draco.

"I look forward to it," said Flint, coldly.

Draco sighed heavily and accepted one of Goyle's truffles. They really were fantastic. He eavesdropped on Crabbe and Goyle's conversations for the rest of the feast. They weren't really bright and so they didn't have much intellect to offer. This only made Draco want to talk to Hermione more. He turned to Blaise.

"What are you doing after the feast?"

Blaise raised an eyebrow.

"Dunno," he said. "You got any ideas?"

"We could play Wizard's chess," said Draco. "I saw a set back in the common room."

"Alright, it's on," said Blaise, smiling at Draco.

"Oh, oh, we'd like to play too!" said Crabbe, excitedly.

"Though, I don't exactly know _how_ to play chess," said Goyle, scratching his head.

"Is it terribly hard, Malfoy?" said Crabbe.

"Yeah, could you teach us?" said Goyle.

Draco stared at them.

"Um," he said.

"Yes, it's hard," interjected Blaise. "But you two can watch. Crabbe can cheer for Malfoy, and Goyle, you can cheer for me."

"Yeah alright!" cried Goyle.

Draco and Blaise shook their heads. These two really were _so_ stupid!

As the group continued to eat their way through the various colourful desserts in front of them, Draco looked up at the staff table. Snape was talking to Dumbledore who was really enjoying whatever drink was inside his golden goblet. But something else caught Draco's attention—Lupin was not there. He was the only teacher missing from the feast. Why wouldn't he be there? Draco thought back to the last couple of days. The professor had in fact been acting strangely, his mood changing every once in a while. It was definitely odd.

The ghosts came out then and performed their little routine for the night's entertainment. The staff and students were delighted to watch and cheered afterwards. The Bloody Baron had had lots of fun frightening the students from the other houses, and certainly gave the Slytherins a laugh. He'd been planning this for months. Soon, the night was over and the prefects were ushering the students back to their houses.

"I am _so_ full," said Crabbe as he tried to force himself to his feet.

"We should hurry so we can beat the traffic," said Draco suddenly.

Nodding, the other three followed him as they pushed and shoved their way through the sea of students all headed for the Great Hall exit. They stopped short by the door however, because Draco had heard a voice he clearly detested by now, calling out his name.

"Hey Malfoy!"

Draco paused, closed his eyes in frustration, took a deep breath and turned round to face Harry Potter. He stared at him, waiting.

"Come here," said Potter.

Draco looked over his shoulder at Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise, all of whom looked puzzled. He then approached Potter and glared at him, his hands inside his pockets and his chin raised.

"What do you want, Potter?" he said, lazily.

He'd finally spotted Hermione. She was standing not too far from him and watching the scene through nervous eyes. Draco wanted to go over there and assure her that he had no interest in starting a fight with anyone, but didn't dare to.

"I just wanted to do a good deed," said Potter, finally answering Draco's question. His tone was annoyingly casual, as though they were discussing the weather. "And I also wanted to apologise for the way I have been behaving. Draco, I'm sorry."

"Right," scoffed Draco, who'd caught the way Potter had winked at his little red-headed shadow.

"No really," said Potter, in a more serious tone. "I'm really sorry that I…you know, hurt your feelings…I had no idea you were so…you know…touchy."

Draco felt his face turn a burning red. He glared at Potter through furious eyes, wanting nothing more than to curse him then and there.

"Shut up," he finally managed to say.

Several students around them stood frozen, watching with fascination, wondering what would happen next.

"Why don't you come over here and make me?" said Potter, arrogantly.

It was a challenge, alright. Draco heard himself say "Oh, I will" as he pulled his wand out and prepared to duel.

"MALFOY!"

Draco froze instantly. He had always known this day would come but had never expected it to be so soon and over something so unimportant. He slowly and nervously turned around to find Snape standing over his shoulder, glaring furiously down at him. Draco's wand instantly lowered itself.

"Come with me," said Snape, darkly.

Draco looked back at his friends nervously as he pocketed his wand. Blaise had an apologetic look on his face and Crabbe and Goyle looked as though they would wet their pants. Potter however looked like it was an early Christmas.

"You can wipe that smirk off of your face, Potter," said Snape, turning his back on him. "Ten points from Gryffindor, and another detention. Tomorrow night, my office, 9 sharp."

"Yes, professor," said Potter, rather happily.

Snape led Draco out of the Great Hall and into the first empty classroom he could find. Draco followed him inside and sat on a desk.

"What's up, Sev?" he said, but his face instantly grew serious once he saw the serious look on Snape's.

" _Do you have no sense of self-control at all?_ " he hissed, angrily.

Draco stared at him.

"Do you have to put up a fight every time you cross him?!"

"I…" said Draco, but he really had nothing else to say. He was completely speechless. Was Severus Snape actually _defending_ Harry Potter?!

"I am not defending that boy's actions," said Snape a second later, as though he had just read Draco's mind. "He is arrogant enough as it is. His parents really messed him up. But you are no better!"

"Excuse me?" gasped Draco. "What are you suggesting, Sev?"

"I'M SUGGESTING THAT YOU GROW UP ALREADY!" said Snape, angrily. "BE A MAN."

"He's _not_ a man, Severus," said a voice from the doorway.

The two of them jumped to stare at Dumbledore, who had entered the classroom and closed the door behind him without either of them even noticing.

"Dumbledore," said Snape, bowing his head low to him.

"Did you hear what I said, Severus?" said Dumbledore, calmly. "Draco Malfoy is _not_ a man. He is a child. You can't expect him to always know what is right and what is wrong."

Draco remained frozen, though he wanted to contradict Dumbledore and explain how he'd cared for himself for the last couple of years and was far more mature than a good percentage of the grade. But he couldn't find his voice. He was too scared to talk back to the headmaster.

"Yes, headmaster," said Snape, in a low voice.

"I'm sure you didn't mean anything by what you said," continued Dumbledore, as though Snape had not spoken. "But I still think you ought to apologise to the boy."

"I will not," hissed Snape, causing Dumbledore's grey eyebrows to shoot right up.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Don't you see, Dumbledore? At this rate, he'll grow up to be a useless, worthless prat, just like his father!"

Draco stared at Snape incredulously. He felt hot tears well up in his eyes. Even Dumbledore was too lost for words. Snape sighed and looked from one to the other, having nothing else to say. Draco was sure that Dumbledore had spoken but he had not heard him, for he ran out of the classroom without another look at Snape and shot down the hallway. He continued to run and climbed up several staircases without the slightest clue as to where he was going. All he knew was that he wanted to be alone—away from everybody else so that he could cry freely—and the common room was definitely not the place to be at the moment.

He finally stopped in front of a door and pushed it open. The Trophy Room. Perfect.

He shut the door firmly behind him and moved into the room, looking around at all the sparkling gold and silver trophies. Years upon years' worth of student achievements were stored up in here. It was very impressive.

Draco seated himself on the floor in the middle of the room and buried his face in his hands. He absentmindedly rocked his body back and forth as though sitting in a rocking chair. For the longest time—ever since he could remember—Severus had been his most trusted friend. He'd been almost like the parent Draco never had. But all that had vanished instantly just a moment ago. And now Draco knew that, no matter what Dumbledore said or did, it would never be the same again. He was officially and completely alone.

"Blimey," said a voice from the doorway.

Draco flew to his feet and wiped his face on his sleeve automatically.

Blaise and Pansy Parkinson were standing in the doorway, both of their jaws dropped.

"You okay?" said Pansy, worriedly.

"Yeah, I'm fine," grumbled Draco.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No."

"Good," said Blaise. "Cause we really didn't want to have to."

Pansy hit him on the arm and he gave her a cold look.

"Come on," he said to Draco. "Let's go."

"Where?"

"To play cards," said Blaise. "Obviously."

"No, I don't want to," said Draco, turning away from him.

"Fine," said Blaise, casually. "We'll just wait up here until you change your mind."

"No, go away," said Draco, stubbornly.

"That's not going to happen, Malfoy," said Pansy. "So you might as well just turn around and talk to us."

Draco remained where he was and so Pansy and Blaise moved into the room and stood in front of him.

"How did you know where I was, anyway?" he asked them.

"We waited by the classroom where Snape took you," Pansy explained.

"Then we saw you run out like a little—ow!"

Pansy had hit Blaise on the arm again, causing Draco to let out a small laugh.

"You two are so weird," he said, feeling slightly better than before.

"You've no idea," said Blaise, moving a step away from Pansy so as to avoid a third punch.

November stepped into play, bringing with it occasional snow that sprinkled the castle grounds. The air got instantly cooler and it was now nearly impossible to go outside without a scar or a hat. Draco's mood had brightened slightly over the last few weeks. He really loved the winter and could not wait until the snow would start to really pile up. He'd always loved the feeling of laying around in it for hours without a care in the world.

Pansy and Blaise had been considerate enough not to mention the trophy room incident to anyone else—not even to Crabbe and Goyle—for which Draco was deeply grateful. He spent a little more time with them as the weeks escalated, his mood improving all the while. Things were really starting to look up and he felt almost completely better as December drew nearer. The same was not true for Lupin.

After Halloween, Lupin had returned looking better and healthier than ever, though with more scars along his neck. He went back to being everyone's favourite teacher and made Defense Against the Dark Arts a truly remarkable class. However, as the days got colder and longer and December drew nearer, his mood worsened once again. It was really strange. Draco felt this overwhelming urge to solve the mystery behind it but had no idea where to even begin.

He did not tell Hermione about the trophy room incident when he finally saw her, a few days after Halloween. Instead, he let her ramble about how easy that transfiguration exam had turned out to be or how annoying and arrogant Potter and Weasley were. Draco felt perfectly fine just sitting and listening to her talk all day. She need never know how he had spent his Halloween. It was better that way.

He had not spoken to Snape at all since the incident on Halloween. It was easier to avoid him since he wasn't teaching Draco anything, and for the first time since Draco had come to Hogwarts, he felt a little grateful for that. He was not yet ready to face Snape after what had happened. Maybe he was being dramatic but he felt like he was being fair. The incident had had an impact on him that perhaps Snape would never understand.

On the last week of November, an interesting idea popped into Draco's clever little mind. Feeling very lonely, he went about hunting down a particular ghost whom he wished to question. The Bloody Baron was in a deserted corridor on the sixth floor on the Friday afternoon that Draco did this. He'd finally gotten away from Blaise and Pansy, who'd been with him literally every minute of every day since Halloween. Draco approached the ghost determinedly and surprised him a great deal when he coughed to indicate his presence.

"What do you want?!" said the ghost, angrily.

"To ask you about my parents," said Draco, calmly.

The Baron eyed him for a moment and then smiled.

"Sorry," he said. "I didn't see the tie. Thought you were another brave little Gryffindor, trying to scare me." Draco nodded. "What can I do for you, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I want you to tell me about what they were like when they were at Hogwarts," said Draco.

"Hmm," said the Baron, thoughtfully. "I don't really remember Narcissa all that well. She was like any other schoolgirl, you know? Now, her sister on the other hand…phew. That is one memorable student, I'll tell you that." Draco nodded. "Yeah, Narcissa didn't really do much. Schoolwork, friends. The usual. Lucius was more of a leader. He made prefect in his fifth year and head boy in his seventh. He was always hanging around his own and occasionally picking fights with the Gryffindors. Well, doesn't every Slytherin do that though?"

"Yeah," said Draco, who was lost in thought.

"They were good kids," said the Baron. "Some of the best Slytherins I'd seen in a century, I'll tell you that."

"Mhm," said Draco. "Okay. Well, thanks."

"Anytime!" said the Baron. "Don't go spreading anything about me now…I don't want anyone to think I've gone soft…even my own students."

"I won't," promised Draco.

And, feeling loads better about himself, he turned around and walked back down the stairs to meet Blaise and Pansy for an early dinner.

* * *

 **AN: A question for you all: Who do you think will ultimately be paired up with whom? **

**Some characters that I will introduce as the story progresses: Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Millicent Bulstrode, and Lavender Brown.**


	8. Year 1: A Professor's Advice

**Author's Note: I'm sorry for the really long delay in updating. Apart from the stresses of final exams, there was so much going on at home and with my friends. I've never been more overwhelmed. It was the hardest two weeks of my life. But finals are over and I'll have more time to myself so you can expect regular updates from now on (1-2 chapters per week, if not more). Hope you enjoy the chapter.**

 **Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks**

* * *

CHAPTER 8: YEAR 1—A PROFESSOR'S ADVICE

* * *

 _Harry_

* * *

"I know how you must be feeling, Harry," said Remus in a small, constricted voice.

"No, you don't!" said Harry, angrily. "You have _no_ idea how I'm feeling! None!"

Remus opened his mouth to speak but then closed it again. Harry rose up from the bed and began to pace the hospital wing, ignoring the fact that Remus smiled sadly every time their eyes met.

It was December 10th. Remus had been hospitalized due to some heavy injuries from his last cycle. Harry had come to visit him as soon as he'd heard—that very morning—and revealed the contents of Sirius' last letter to him quite energetically. The yelling had finally subsided, though Harry was still fuming with anger. Never had he felt so used and so betrayed. The only reason, as far as he was concerned, that Sirius had been close with him all these years was because he couldn't be close to _Malfoy!_

"Surely you could try to understand," began Remus, but he stopped mid-sentence at the cold look that Harry gave him.

"What bothers me even more about this whole thing," breathed Harry, "Was that _you_ kept it a secret from me too." He stopped pacing and turned to look at him, lying there on the bed, face completely scratched. "How could you do this to me, Moony?"

"Harry," said Remus, quietly, but Harry had not heard him.

"It's because I'm just a child, isn't it? This is just great. Everyone always thinks that I'm just a kid and I'm too immature to deal with things. Mum and dad think I can't handle all the fame so they act as my body guards everywhere I go. Dad rarely talks about his job to me even though he _knows_ I want to become an auror. And then there's you—keeping secrets like this from me because I wouldn't understand, right?"

"It was not my secret to tell."

Harry scoffed and resumed his pacing.

"Have you written back to him?" said Remus after a while.

Harry scoffed again, stopped pacing, and pulled out the letter from his pocket.

" _I'd have told you this sooner, Harry, but I didn't think it was important,_ " he read aloud. He looked up at Remus. "I think it's pretty obvious he didn't think I deserved to know."

"What _I_ think it means is that he didn't know _how_ to tell you," said Remus.

Harry shook his head angrily and shoved the letter back in his pocket, resuming his pacing.

"Look Harry, I recognised Draco Malfoy the moment he stepped foot in my class and after I learned his name, everything was clear. In fact, I believe I recognised him even back at the Sorting Ceremony on the first day."

"How?" said Harry, stopping to look at Remus.

"Why, he is the spitting image of his father," laughed Remus. "If you knew Lucius Malfoy back in the war, you wouldn't forget him quite easily."

"What does this have to do with it, Moony?" said Harry, tiredly.

"The point I am trying to make is that I didn't tell Sirius just like he didn't tell you," said Remus, in a quiet voice.

"Well," said Harry, slowly. "Okay, yeah I guess that's true. But no one told you not to tell, just like no one told Sirius not to tell either!"

"Perhaps one day when you're older you'll understand," sighed Remus, ignoring Harry's eye-roll at the words _'when you're older'_. "But for now, I think it is important for you to have a talk with Sirius."

"No!" said Harry. Remus stared at him. "I don't want to talk to him. I don't even want to look at him. He lied to me all this time!"

"Fair enough," said Remus, smiling sadly again. "I lied too."

"Yeah, well you're in the hospital wing," said Harry, crossing his arms stubbornly and finally stopping the pacing.

"True," said Remus, and he reached for the steaming cup of tea on his bedside table and took a sip.

"I'm going to go visit Hagrid," Harry lied.

"Alright," said Remus, smiling at him again. "You'll pop in again to see me?"

"Yeah," said Harry, turning towards the door. "Glad you're feeling better, Moony."

"Thank you, Harry," said Remus.

And with that, Harry exited the hospital wing, feeling worse than he had before.

* * *

"Well?" said Ron once Harry climbed through the portrait hole and slumped on the couch near him. "H-how is he doing?"

"Fine," mumbled Harry, his eyes on the fireplace, "It's just the flu. He'll be good in no time."

"Wow," said Ron. "He sure is sick a lot. This is the longest he's been gone, I think."

"Yeah," agreed Harry, his mind elsewhere.

Ron watched him for a few moments and then pulled a chocolate frog out of his pocket and began to chew on it. Everyone else was outside, enjoying the freshly fallen snow. Harry was not in the mood and had insisted Ron go and join everyone else, but obviously Ron did not want to do anything without Harry, so he'd stayed behind with him.

"Say, are you going to tell me what's bothering you so much?" said Ron after a long moment's pause.

Harry looked around the empty common room and then shook his head.

"It's nothing," he said.

"Okay then," said Ron. "So you're sure you don't want to go outside?"

"If you want to go, Ron, you can," said Harry, grumpily.

Ron hesitated for a second, then jumped from the couch and climbed up the spiral staircase to the dormitory. Harry sighed and stared at the fire. His entire life, he'd been surrounded by four adults he respected so much—his parents, Remus, and Sirius. His parents were the ones he always wanted to impress. Remus was the one who taught him so many new things. But Sirius…Sirius was the one he really opened up to. He was the one Harry was truly himself with and didn't have to pretend with. But now, he felt as though his entire relationship with Sirius had been nothing but a lie. How on earth would he go on after this?

Ron returned from the dormitory and tossed a Wizard's Chess set onto the carpet by the fireplace, smiling at Harry.

The next couple of days passed very quickly, and the business of classes and Quidditch practice managed to get Harry's mind off of things. His mood brightened considerably, and soon he and Ron were back to their usual games, taking advantage of their school-wide fame and popularity. Remus also left the hospital wing and was back to his usual, cheerful self. His classes became even more fun as time moved forward.

Despite Harry's brightened mood, he found that he could barely look at Malfoy…and sitting next to him in Transfiguration did not help at all. Harry had not spoken to or taunted Malfoy in any way since Sirius' letter. He just ignored him completely. It was the biggest secret he'd ever kept, but he didn't think Malfoy would take it well if he found out that he was related—at least in some way—to the Boy Who Conquered. Though Harry kind of looked forward to seeing his reaction, he wasn't sure his own would be very positive.

On the following weekend, the first-years received a mountain full of homework. Harry and Ron wanted nothing better than to bury themselves in the snow as they stayed up late with Neville on Saturday night and tried to tackle Professor McGonagall's essay on Switching Spells. The rest of the common room was mostly deserted, except for a few first-years who were also trying to finish the essay. Hermione was of course in her little corner, reading ahead, as usual. Neville had to continuously wake Ron, who was falling asleep in his mountain of notes. But Harry was feeling extremely motivated by Professor McGonagall's threat to take him off the Quidditch team if he failed to hand in the assignment, so he focused on the work in front of him.

"Hagrid's been asking about you, Harry," said Neville, after a while.

Harry nodded at his paper.

"He's asking why you haven't popped in to visit," said Neville.

"Been busy," said Harry, who was frowning at the book in front of him.

"We should all go tomorrow!" said Ron. "I wanted to ask him about Pig. He's been looking off lately and maybe he'll know what's up with him."

"Mhm," said Harry, without looking up.

Ron and Neville exchanged a look and then suddenly Neville closed his book and went to sit next to Harry.

"Hey," he said, quietly. "Can we talk?"

Harry looked up at him. Neville looked very uncomfortable. Harry glanced at Ron, who quickly busied himself with the deck of cards on the table.

"What's up?" Harry asked.

"Nothing much," shrugged Neville. "I just wanted to know why you were so weird back on Halloween."

"Why are you asking now?" said Harry, slowly.

"I dunno," said Neville, looking down.

Harry gave Ron a questioning look, and Ron in turn jumped up, pretend-yawned and darted for the stairs to the dormitory.

"Oh no, what did Ron say to you?" said Harry, finally realising what might have happened.

"Don't be mad at him, he was just worried," said Neville.

"So he did tell you then, didn't he?" said Harry.

"Yeah," said Neville. "I'm surprised _you_ didn't come talk to me."

"Right back at you!" cried Harry, startling Neville a bit. He jumped to his feet and paced near the fireplace. "I don't understand you, Nev! We're basically brothers!"

"I know," said Neville, quietly. "But it's not even that serious, Harry, honestly! It's just James being James…you know, he always gets worried and stuff. I made the mistake of mentioning it to him and he took it too seriously."

"S-still!" said Harry. "You shouldn't have…I could've…it…it's not right!"

"Sorry," said Neville. "I'll tell you next time."

"Next time?" repeated Harry.

He paused to look at Hermione, who was eavesdropping on the conversation. Noticing, she quickly buried herself in her books again, her cheeks reddening furiously.

"Why do you want to run away, Nev?" said Harry, quietly, taking a seat next to him again. "Aren't you happy here?"

Neville hesitated.

"I feel so…out of place…here. Like…like I don't belong."

"Oh, you really mustn't think like that!" cried Hermione, suddenly jumping from her seat and joining them on the couch. "You fit. You fit right in, Neville, you really do!"

"Nice of you to join us," muttered Harry without looking at her, but Hermione ignored him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to listen in," she told Neville. "But there's one thing you're forgetting."

"What?" said Neville.

"The Sorting Hat!" exclaimed Hermione. "It put you in Gryffindor, which means that you belong in Gryffindor. If you didn't belong here, the hat wouldn't place you!"

"That's true," said Neville. "Thanks, Hermione."

"Yeah, thanks," muttered Harry, grumpily.

Neville kicked his foot, then grinned at him.

* * *

"Harry!" exclaimed Hagrid when Harry, Ron, and Neville showed up on his doorstep at noon next day. "You're 'ere! It's been so long!"

He pulled them all into a tight hug, squishing Harry's glasses painfully against his nose.

"Hello Hagrid," he said into his giant belly. "How've you been?"

"Oh Alrigh'," said Hagrid, letting them pass through and shutting the door behind them. "Fang has been keepin' me company. It's too cold to go out into them woods and visit my other friends, so it's just been us two. Pretty lonely, though."

"Sorry we haven't come sooner," said Harry, taking a seat at the large round table in the middle of the hut. "Been busy, you know?"

"Sure, sure," said Hagrid, who poured tea into 4 large cups and placed them on the table. "I came to the Quidditch matches, ye know!" Harry smiled. "Yep. To each and every one so far. Yer brilliant, Harry!"

"Thanks, Hagrid."

"We're hoping to snatch up that cup this year," said Ron, happily.

"I'm sure ye will, at the rate that yer playin'!" said Hagrid.

"Remus is out of the hospital wing," offered Neville, taking a sip of his tea.

"Oh good, good," said Hagrid. "Poor thing. It must be hard, livin' the way he has to."

"How do you mean?" said Ron, frowning.

"So how's your term, Hagrid?" said Harry, quickly.

"Yeah, how's the game keeping going?" added Neville.

Thankfully, Ron hadn't noticed a thing and simply listened intently as Hagrid told them about the various creatures that he looked after. The rest of the afternoon was nice and pleasant. And more importantly, the subject of Remus never came up again. Harry and Neville later agreed that it most certainly was a close one. They'd be sure to tell Hagrid to be more careful next time. Not that they couldn't trust Ron to tell him of course, but they did promise Remus that they wouldn't.

As the Christmas holidays drew nearer, the homework piled ever so higher. The boys found that they were up late almost every single night, with Neville helping them with their homework. Hermione was also becoming even more annoying, if it were at all possible. Ron developed a liking to annoy her just for fun, which Harry of course joined in on rather quickly. They made sure that she knew every time they were going to break the rules, so that she then had to wrestle with herself. They knew she wouldn't tell on them anymore of course. After all, she wanted the others to like her just as much as the next person. And besides, at the rate that Snape was deducting points, Gryffindor could not afford to lose more.

Snape was still just as horrible to Harry as he'd been on that first day. He seemed to hate Harry more than anyone else. In fact, there rarely was a lesson where Snape didn't say something about the Boy Who Conquered to the whole class. Harry mostly just sat quiet and did not argue. He knew his mother would not approve if he talked back. His dad might—he hated Snape. Sirius did too, but Harry did not reply to any of his letters and was not intending on it either.

The next surprise that Harry received was on December 18th, just three days before the holiday break. As he and Ron were headed over to the Quidditch pitch for their last practice of the term, Parvati Patil came running, waving a piece of paper in her hand.

"Harry!" she gasped as she finally reached them. She was very breathless.

"What's up?" he asked her.

She handed the piece of paper to him and then ran off to join Lavender Brown, who was waiting for her out on the field. The two of them then began to skip back to the castle. Harry frowned at the piece of paper as he unfolded it and read:

 _Dearest Harry,_

 _Won't you be so kind as to come to my office as soon as this note gets to you? I would like to have a talk with you._

 _Hoping you are well,_

 _Professor Dumbledore_

"Dumbledore?" exclaimed Ron, who was reading the note over Harry's shoulder. Harry stared at him. "D-Dumbledore?"

Harry nodded.

"You don't think you're in trouble for anything, do you?" said Ron, worriedly.

"I dunno," said Harry, truthfully. "I'd better go. Tell Wood for me, alright?"

"Good luck, mate," said Ron, tapping him on the shoulder before Harry turned to walk back to the castle.

It was only after he'd reached the Entrance Hall that Harry realised he did not actually know where the headmaster's office was located. Looking around, he wondered who he should ask. Remus was off at Hogsmeade Village for the day, and the only teacher that Harry could see in the Great Hall was Snape. He really didn't fancy kindly asking him for directions. So instead, Harry decided to wander around. Surely, he would find the office eventually.

He passed by groups of students who were discussing their plans for the holidays. He passed by ghosts who were going about their own business. He climbed endless stairs and wandered around random corridors. After about ten minutes of wandering, he turned a corner and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Well fine!" said a sobbing voice he recognised right away. "If I bother you so much, then why don't you just say so, Draco?!"

And with that, Hermione ran down the hall, her cries growing louder as she went. Harry peeked as Malfoy stood there, contemplating what to do. Then, he walked away, muttering to himself. Harry stared after him, and then shrugged. He finally found the stone gargoyle that he had been looking for and threw the conversation he'd just overheard out of his mind as he scanned the piece of paper for Dumbledore's scribbled password.

"Come in," said Dumbledore's voice after Harry knocked on the office door twice, a while later.

Harry pushed open the heavy door and peered around.

"Ah Harry, good afternoon," said Dumbledore, sweetly. "Come in, come in."

"Hello, professor," said Harry nervously. He closed the door behind him and slowly made his way over to the headmaster's desk, all the while looking around the large, circular office that was heavily laden with piles and piles of books and peculiar silver instruments.

"How do you like it?" said Dumbledore.

Harry met his eyes quickly and took a seat across from him.

"It…it's very nice," he said, smiling back. This was the first time he'd ever had a one-on-one with the headmaster. He was of course on very good terms with Harry's parents, but he'd never really talked to Harry himself.

"Good, I'm glad you think so," said Dumbledore. "Can I get you anything to drink? I just made a pot of tea."

"S-sure," said Harry, awkwardly

Dumbledore tapped his wand on the pot once and it poured its contents into a cup which then soared its way towards Harry. Harry took it in his hands and smiled at the professor again, before taking a sip.

"Very well then," said Dumbledore. "I do hope you'll forgive me from pulling you away from Quidditch practice. I know how much you value it."

"That's alright," said Harry.

"I just had an interesting talk with Professor Lupin the other night, and thought it was about time that I personally met you."

Harry nearly choked on his tea at these words. He put the cup down and stared at the professor.

"I of course am talking about the letter you received from your godfather, a few weeks ago," said Dumbledore, quietly.

"H-he told you about that, sir?" said Harry. He really hadn't expected this.

"Oh yes," said Dumbledore. "Professor Lupin knew that it bothered you very much and he thought maybe it'd be a good idea if I talked to you. And I must say, I agree."

He took a sip of his tea and then smiled at Harry again.

"You have every right to be angry, Harry," he said, surprising him again. "I've heard so much about how close you are with Sirius." He paused. "I also realise you must be angry because you've heard so much about the war from your parents but you don't really know what happened, do you?"

Harry nodded slowly.

"So I am here to tell you about it," said Dumbledore, simply.

"R-really?" said Harry, who could not believe his ears.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "I think you have a right to know a little more about it than you do." Harry sighed of relief. "So, ask me anything."

"Er, alright," said Harry, slowly. He thought for a moment. "W-well… I suppose, I've always wondered w-what he was really like."

"Voldemort," said Dumbledore, to confirm that that was who Harry meant. Harry nodded, feeling a little surprised at hearing Dumbledore say the name. "Yes, it's only natural that you should feel curious. Well, I'm not sure what I could say that will surprise you. He was the most evil, dark wizard of all time...even surpassed Gallert Grindelwald, who was another dark wizard, living in my time. Voldemort sunk so far into the dark arts that he no longer knew the way out. I doubt he ever even wanted to."

"Did he go to Hogwarts, sir?" said Harry, curiously.

"Yes, he did," said Dumbledore. "And I am sorry to inform you that he was one of the best students Hogwarts had ever seen."

"R-really?"

"Yes. He was at the top of each class, always followed all the rules, won many awards, gained Prefect status in his fifth year and then Head Boy in his seventh. He was the dream student of every professor at the school."

"Wow."

"After Hogwarts, he worked at _Borgin & Burke's_ for a couple of years, while he gathered his followers."

"The D-death Eaters, right?" said Harry, who recalled his parents saying the name a few years back.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow and then smiled.

"Yes. The Death Eaters consisted of a number of different witches and wizards. Some were school friends who joined out of loyalty and admiration for Voldemort, some were tortured and blackmailed into joining...some were not even aware that they'd joined."

Harry frowned.

"How?"

"W-well, you will learn about that in Defense Against the Dark Arts in the coming years," said Dumbledore, slyly. "Anyway, among the main groups of Death Eaters were of course some very respectable Pureblood families...the Lestranges, the Malfoys..."

"The Blacks," said Harry, dully.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "And Sirius was the only one of the Blacks who never joined the Death Eaters. He joined the other side...our side...the Order of the Phoenix."

"Whoa," said Harry, quietly, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"It was a secret organisation that I'd founded back when the war first started," explained Dumbledore. "Its main purpose was of course to fight Voldemort and his followers. Sirius was a proud member from the very beginning, as was your father and Professor Lupin of course."

"But Malfoy then—"

"Draco Malfoy was born to parents Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy," said Dumbledore. "Before marriage, Narcissa was a Black. It's true."

Harry sighed deeply.

"As I understand it, Sirius and his brother Regulus were not on very good terms with their cousins. And so, even afterwards in their adult lives, they did not keep tabs on who married whom."

"But professor," said Harry, desperately. "Sirius _did_ know though, sir. He told me in the letter that he did know and that he never thought it was important to mention it!"

"And perhaps Sirius had his reasons for it," said Dumbledore, quietly. "But all of that is in the past now. And I want you to do something for me, Harry, when you see Sirius over the Christmas holidays." He paused, set his teacup on the tray in front of him, and then leaned forwards. "I want you to go up to Sirius, look him in the eye, and say 'Welcome home'."

"J-just like that?" said Harry.

"Yes, just like that," repeated Dumbledore. "There is no use in bringing up what is past. This is about moving forwards. Now you know the truth. And you and Mr. Malfoy are in school together. There is no point in bringing up old quarrels. Take it from a man as old as me, having been there so many times myself."

Harry sighed again and looked up at the large red bird that was standing on one of the shelves behind Dumbledore. Its big round eyes were blinking at Harry and it looked to be smiling. Harry met Dumbledore's eyes again, and nodded.

"I understand, professor."

"I knew you would, son," said Dumbledore, smiling. "It is one of the many things that are so extraordinary about you...and one of the many reasons why you were able to escape Voldemort that night."

"But how, professor?" said Harry. "I know I'm the Boy Who Conquered but no one's ever really told me why I was able to defeat him that night."

Dumbledore paused.

"It was magic that you _and_ your parents produced at the exact same moment...magic that is very advanced and magic that you perhaps will not understand just yet. But I promise you, Harry, I will explain to you everything in good time."

"When I'm older," Harry wanted to add, but didn't dare to.

"It is very possible that you will one day need this information desperately."

Harry stared at the old man.

"H-how do you mean, professor?"

"Oh nothing," said Dumbledore, smiling. "I am merely babbling. You go on to your Quidditch practice now. Go on."

"Good day, professor," said Harry, and he stood up from the chair and left the office, now feeling guilty for ignoring Sirius, and slightly uneasy about that last bit of information that Dumbledore had revealed.

* * *

 _Draco_

* * *

December was a pretty uneventful month. Draco spent most of it keeping low and avoiding Snape altogether. They hadn't spoken at all since Halloween, and Draco was _not_ going to be the first one to apologize. No way. Instead, he focused on his homework and on his growing friendship with Blaise. He wasn't so bad after all. Even though he had some twisted views on blood and wizardry, he had Draco's back whenever he needed him to, and that was certainly something.

Classes were going pretty well. Potter seemed to be acting very strangely. For one, he was not tormenting Draco anymore. In fact, he ignored him completely during every Transfiguration class. It was odd. His pal Lupin was also being strange again. His mood swings were really starting to freak Draco out. _And_ he was away for a whole week. Rumor had it that he was in the hospital wing the entire time. Something was definitely odd about the professor.

With classes keeping them so busy, Draco and Hermione rarely found time to talk to each other. It was hard, but Draco was slowly starting to get used to it. Friends came and went. He knew that. He would just have to accept it. Besides, Blaise was pretty cool and Crabbe and Goyle were not bad either. It's not like Draco was totally and completely alone. The reason Hermione meant so much to him was because she was the first friend he'd ever had…but not the only.

But he didn't help matters at all when he lashed out on her a few weeks into December. The Slytherins and Gryffindors were sitting in Defense Against the Dark Arts as Lupin went on about the tongue-tying curse. Draco was just starting to fall asleep when Hermione unexpectedly ripped a piece of paper from her notebook, scribbled on it, and tossed it to him. He glanced up at the professor once, and then read the note:

 _It's so nice and snowy out. Want to go for a walk later?_

Draco thought for a minute. He'd agreed with Blaise to play Exploding Snap today after Defense Against the Dark Arts.

 _Sorry, I can't today_

He tossed the note back to her. Hermione waited five minutes before replying.

 _Well how about we do homework later in the evening? Usual spot at the library?_

Draco sighed.

 _I have other things to do. Rain check?_

Hermione nodded slowly and placed the note inside her notebook before resuming her note-taking.

After the lesson, Draco said "See ya" to her and dashed out the door to catch up with Blaise, who always left so quickly.

"We still good for today?" said Draco.

"Yep," said Blaise. "And hey, get this. The Gryffindors are having a surprise Quidditch practice today before dinner. Feeling like a little bit of taunting?"

Draco smirked.

"Yeah, sure."

"Hey Draco!" cried Hermione, who was apparently following them.

"See you back in the common room," said Blaise quickly, before disappearing from the hall.

Draco turned round to look at Hermione.

"Hi," said Hermione.

"Hi," said Draco, in a questioning sort of tone.

"A-are you okay?" said Hermione.

"Yeah, I'm fine," said Draco. It was the truth, after all.

"Well…I overheard what you were saying with that boy."

"Blaise," said Draco.

"Yes, him," said Hermione. "W-why don't you want to spend time with _me_?"

"Malfoy! Are you coming?!" cried Crabbe and Goyle, behind him.

Draco sighed.

"Look, I'll see you later, okay Hermione?"

He placed a hand on her shoulder and then turned around to join Crabbe and Goyle.

They met up with Blaise in the common room and then together headed over to the Quidditch pitch to sit in on the Gryffindor practice. Draco was disappointed not to see Potter there. Blaise looked to be disappointed too. He'd been really looking forward to seeing him more than anyone else. About five minutes into the tryout however, Draco overheard something very disturbing. A couple of Gryffindor girls were sitting just a few stands below them and they were gossiping quite noisily.

"She was crying in the bathroom when I last saw her," said one of the girls.

"Poor Hermione," said the other one.

Draco's heart seemed to stop. He strained his ears to listen, ignoring Blaise beside him, who was shouting insults at the Gryffindors.

"She was so sad," said another girl. "I felt awful. But she wouldn't tell me why she was crying."

"How long has she been in there?"

"Ever since class ended, I think."

"Yeah, she's just refusing to come out!"

"Hey, where are you going?" said Blaise. This was when Draco finally noticed that he'd jumped to his feet. He looked from Blaise to the Gryffindor girls and then at the flying Quidditch players.

"Bathroom," Draco lied. Blaise nodded and resumed his yelling, now accompanied by Crabbe and Goyle as well, while Draco made his way out of the stands and across the snowy field towards the castle.

It was a while before he found the girls bathroom nearest to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. There was no mistaking that this was the one. He could hear sobbing from inside it as he approached the door.

"Don't even think about entering!" said a female ghost that suddenly passed through him, scaring the life out of him.

"S-sorry," said Draco, awkwardly.

The ghost turned around to look at him as she floated backwards to the end of the hall, her eyes still on him.

Draco knocked twice on the door, softly. The crying stopped instantly.

"H-Hermione?" he said, quietly. "I know you're in there… come out."

He had to wait a couple of minutes but eventually she came out, having wiped all the tears away.

"What?" she said, in a quiet voice.

"Let's go for that walk," said Draco.

They were silent for a long time as they wandered the various castle corridors, absentmindedly climbing flights of stairs and peering out various windows. Finally, Hermione stopped and turned to look at Draco.

"You don't want to be friends anymore?" she said in a quiet voice.

"No," said Draco. "That's not it at all."

"Then why are you avoiding me?"

Draco thought for a minute.

"Look, it's…it sucks that we were put in different houses. It really does." Hermione nodded her agreement. "But this means that I have to find some friends in Slytherin if I'm going to survive these seven years. Just like _you_ have to find friends in Gryffindor as well."

"Yes, but—"

"And it's really hard for a Slytherin to find Slytherin friends when he is always hanging around Gryffindors and they notice."

Hermione stared at him.

"So you don't like to be associated with a Gryffindor, is that it?" she said, angrily.

"What? No!" cried Draco. "That's not what I said at all!"

"Well, that's what it sounded like!" said Hermione, stubbornly.

"It…" Draco sighed and looked around the empty corridor.

"Don't worry, no one will hear you," said Hermione.

Draco glared at her.

"Well why are you allowed to have other friends and I'm not?!"

"I didn't say you were not allowed!" shouted Hermione. "I said you were ignoring me completely!"

"Hey, I'm just trying to find some new friends so I won't be alone while you're off with your new ones!" Draco retaliated. "But it's kind of hard to do when you're being such a pain in the ass!"

Hermione looked as though she'd been punched in the face. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she grew very red.

"Well fine!" she said, sobbingly. "If I bother you so much, then why don't you just say so, Draco?!"

And with that, she turned around and darted for the end of the hall, all the while crying loudly. Draco stared after her, then stomped off angrily. He did not return to the Quidditch pitch but instead went to the common room which was thankfully empty. He slumped on one of the couches and tried to cool off from the fight. She was being so completely unfair. _She_ was allowed to go and make new friends so that she wouldn't be alone when they couldn't hang out together, but he wasn't. Was that right? Well, too bad. He wouldn't have it that way. He would do whatever he wanted. No one could tell him what to do— _especially_ not Hermione.

When Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle climbed through the portrait hole an hour later, followed by a bunch of other students, Draco had still not calmed down from the fight. In fact, he had grown even angrier than he'd been.

"Hey, how come you never—?" began Blaise, but he stopped talking when he saw the look on Draco's face. He was so angry he could kick something.

"M-Malfoy?" said Crabbe, quietly.

Draco ignored him. He continued to stare off into the fireplace and replayed the fight in his head over and over again. He didn't notice as several fourth years took their seats on the couches beside him and began to toss a small ball around and laugh about something. He did not notice when Snape came in to give the Slytherins a quick announcement about second term. The only thing that snapped him out of his daydream was when Marcus Flint shouted "Oy, mudblood lover!"

That had done it.

Draco sprung to his feet and gave Marcus a very cold look.

"Relax man!" said Marcus, who was a little startled. Everyone in the common room now stopped their activities to watch.

" _Don't call her that_ ," said Draco, through gritted teeth.

"Or what?" said Marcus, smirking wildly. "You're going to come and get me, ickle little first year?"

Draco drew his wand and pointed it at Marcus, his insides swirling with anger. He didn't know what he wanted to do. All he knew was that not doing anything was unacceptable. Marcus laughed to his friends and then drew his wand too.

"Let's go, Malfoy," he said, mockingly. "Come on; give me your best shot. Go on."

Draco shot a simple stunning spell at him which Marcus deflected. His buddies let out a roar of laughter.

"Draco…" said Blaise's voice quietly, but he ignored him and dashed sideways to avoid Marcus' spell. It hit a vase in the corner which exploded to tiny pieces, alarming some of the students.

"Scared yet?" said Marcus.

"Never!" cried Draco. " _Expelliarmus!_ "

The spell missed him by inches and instead hit a pillow on one of the couches behind him, causing feathers to explode everywhere. The duel went on for several more minutes, as the surrounding crowd either cheered for one of the sides or begged both to stop before it got serious.

"You need to learn that when you embarrass yourself by hanging out with mudbloods, you embarrass Slytherin house!"

"Stop. Calling. Her. That!" yelled Draco. He got momentarily distracted by a distant memory of when he'd heard his father use the word. And in that split second, Marcus hit him with a spell that was very unfamiliar to Draco. Because he indirectly hit Draco, the effects were not to the full extent, but they were still quite damaging. Draco felt a stab of pain shoot up his left arm and his knees buckled as he fell to the ground, smelling blood and seeing white dots. The last thing he heard was Blaise yelling "FOOL!" at Marcus and someone running out of the room and yelling for help.

He felt so warm and so cozy beneath the blankets that he almost regretted opening his eyes. The light in the room was instantly blinding and he blinked for several minutes before everything came into focus. Oh great. The hospital wing. His head felt really heavy from the fall as he gently tried to lift it from his pillow. It looked to be early morning. Had he been there overnight? He suddenly noticed a dark figure sitting on the chair beside his bed, its head in its hands. He frowned slightly.

"H-hey," he said, weakly.

Snape looked up at him.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, concerned.

"Fine," said Draco, who was suddenly feeling the jabbing pain in his left arm, which was covered with a white cast. "What time is it?"

"Nearly 7 in the morning," answered Snape.

Draco frowned.

"I've been here overnight?"

Snape nodded.

"What…what happened?"

"Your classmates said you tried to duel Marcus Flint and that one of your spells went awry."

Draco narrowed his eyes at the cast, trying to remember this.

"Who said that?"

"Everyone who was there, son," said Snape. "Marcus got a detention with me every night for a week, after the holidays."

"Thanks," said Draco, quietly. He shifted in his bed and glanced around the empty hospital wing.

"How…how have you been?" said Snape.

Draco looked at him.

"Busy," he replied. "Doing homework…hanging out with Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle. The usual."

"Good, good," said Snape, nodding. "Any word from—?"

"No," said Draco. "Not a single letter."

"Forget about it," said Snape. "Seriously, do not think about it."

"I'm not," said Draco, and it was the truth. He really didn't care that all his classmates were getting letters from home almost every single day, and that it was almost Christmas and he'd still not gotten a single letter. It didn't matter. He'd expected nothing but this anyway.

"How are your studies?" said Snape.

"Really good," said Draco. "Couldn't be better."

"Good."

Snape looked to be struggling with what to say. He glanced around the hospital wing, then looked back at Draco, and then at his hands.

"You are nothing like your father, Draco," he said, in a low voice.

"I know," said Draco.

"But I do want you to know that he was…well, different…back in the war."

Draco listened without interrupting. It was a rare case when he got to hear about the war and it fascinated him a great deal.

"Your father was…well, he was one of the Dark Lord's most loyal," said Snape. "It's true. And that's why he and your mother were his favourites and they were treated better than everyone else. They were the favourite Death Eater couple. And they were really wealthy and adored by everyone. You had an incredible first year of life. You were showered with gifts and kisses and you were absolutely adored."

"I don't remember," said Draco.

"Of course you don't remember, you were only a year old," said Snape. "Anyway, your father was really a loyal person to everyone he valued. He really was. And your mother has always been a good person too. But you must understand that things change when life hits you with unexpected surprises."

"I don't understand," said Draco.

"You will when you're older," said Snape. "Like I told you before, you couldn't just be a Death Eater without doing Death Eater things. And your mother and father were no different. But it all changed that night that the Dark Lord was defeated. Your mother and father tried to get out of the mess that they were in but no one in the Ministry of Magic would believe them. They merely escaped prison."

"Wow," said Draco, who had not known all of that.

"That is the gist of it," said Snape. "I just wanted you to know that it was all very different before the war. And had the Potters not vanquished the Dark Lord, you would be living very differently now. You would be very rich and adored and even feared."

"M-me?"

"Yes, you."

"Whoa."

"But it's important, Draco, it's important for you to understand something," said Snape, and he suddenly leaned forwards in his chair and looked Draco right in the eyes. "You would be even more miserable than you are now."

"How come?" said Draco.

"Because the Dark Lord would eventually recruit you as a Death Eater of course," said Snape. "And trust me; it is not the way to go." He then stood up and straightened his cloak. "Just think about that."

"I will," said Draco.

"Good. I have to go and prepare for my morning class now."

"Okay."

"I'll pop in to visit again at lunch," he promised, as he began to move towards the door. "And Madame Pomfrey, the nurse, is just next door if you need her."

"Alright," said Draco.

Snape hesitated, then turned around and grabbed the door handle.

"Thanks for coming, Sev," Draco called after him.

Snape paused to look at him and then left.

If this was his version of an apology, Draco was fine with it. He knew Snape regretted what he'd said back on Halloween, and that he really didn't mean it. He knew that. And truth be told, he was kind of getting sick of all the fighting and really missed Snape. It was good to be back to talking.

Draco slept for the rest of the morning and awoke at lunchtime to several different voices surrounding his bed.

"He looks as white as a ghost," said Blaise. "Perhaps we should call the nurse?"

"No, just let him be," said Pansy's voice. "Can't you see he's tired and he wants to rest?"

"Yeah Blaise, don't be an idiot!" said Crabbe, smartly.

"Oh shut up, you!" said Pansy, annoyed.

Goyle let out a bark of laughter.

"What are _you_ laughing at, wet pants?" said Blaise.

Goyle stopped instantly.

"That's right, I saw the way you peed nervously when Draco collapsed," said Blaise. "You looked like you were going to throw up all over the carpet too."

Pansy giggled.

"Shut up," Goyle grumbled.

"Boy, you guys sure are a cheer fest," said Draco, lightly.

The four exclaimed together and a series of "How are you feeling?"'s followed briefly. Draco managed to sit up on the bed and saw that his four friends were sitting on his bed or on chairs near it.

"I'm fine," he repeated over and over again.

"We would've come sooner but Snape's been sitting by your bed since yesterday night," said Pansy.

"He just left this morning," said Blaise.

"Really?" said Draco. "He was here the whole night?"

"Yep," said Blaise. "We heard that he had it out with Madame Pomfrey because she wanted him to leave but he absolutely refused to do so."

"I see," said Draco, reaching over for the glass of water on his bedside table. "So how's it going?"

"A pretty dull day," said Pansy. "I can't wait for the holidays to start already."

"Only two days now," said Crabbe, excitedly.

"Brilliant," said Draco. "How are classes going?"

"Oh fine," said Blaise. "You haven't missed anything special, don't worry."

"Yeah, it's the end of term!" said Goyle. "They won't give out anything new."

"Right," said Draco. "So you wouldn't happen to have any notes for me, would you?"

The four exchanged look and then shook their heads.

"We're not geeks like you," Blaise teased.

Draco smirked.

At that moment, the hospital wing doors burst open, revealing a panicked looking Hermione at the entrance. The other four jumped from their seats and stared at her in shock.

"What are _you_ doing here?" said Blaise, angrily.

Ignoring him, Hermione ran to Draco's bed.

"Are you alright?!" she gasped.

"You guys go," Draco told his friends. "I'll be fine, go on."

They exchanged a few looks again, and then bid him farewell and exited the hospital wing. Blaise looked absolutely appalled at Hermione's interruption, but Pansy pulled him away from the bed and they exited together. Hermione sat on the edge of the bed and looked at Draco apologetically.

"I only heard just now," she said. "Do you know, Marcus Flint got detention for a full week because of this!"

"Yeah, I know," said Draco. "Hermione, I'm really sorry about before."

"No, _I'm_ really sorry about before!"

"No, you didn't do anything! It was me, and I—"

"—really didn't mean what I said!—"

"—I don't want to stop being friends—"

"—who's to say that we even have to?—"

"—I'm sorry—"

"—No, _I'm_ sorry!—"

"—NO I'M SORRY!"

They stopped together and let out nervous laughs. Hermione sighed.

"So are you okay?"

"Yeah," said Draco, truthfully. "Yeah, I'm feeling fine. Madame Pomfrey told me earlier that it'll take a few weeks to heal, but that it will heal eventually."

"Hey, at least it's not your right arm!" said Hermione. "You can still write."

"Yep," said Draco, taking another sip of his water.

"I was so worried when I heard," said Hermione.

"I'll bet it's all the rage at the school now, isn't it?" muttered Draco. "An ickle first year getting beat up."

"Not at all!" cried Hermione. "The Slytherins are keeping it really hushed. I only found out because I'd overheard some of them talking quietly amongst themselves."

"They are…?" said Draco.

"They don't want anyone to know that they were fighting," said Hermione. "Slytherins prize the way they look to all the rest of the school—I've noticed that this year."

"I see," said Draco.

Hermione suddenly pulled her bag down onto the bed and flipped around in it anxiously, finally pulling out a notebook.

"I took down notes for you," she said. "But only for Transfiguration. We don't have Potions together so I didn't know you weren't there."

"That's fine," said Draco. "Thanks, Hermione."

"No problem," she said, placing the notebook on his bedside table. "Potions with Snape really is dreadful."

"Is it?" said Draco, surprised. "I'd have thought otherwise."

Hermione bit her lip.

"He doesn't seem to like me much," she said. "He's always taking house points whenever I answer one of his questions. He says I brag too much."

"Get outta here," said Draco, waving his hand at the nonsense. "Snape would never do that."

"I'm telling you," Hermione went on. "He has some kind of hatred pulled aside especially for Gryffindors."

"Oh, well that I can understand," said Draco. Hermione gave him a look and he quickly shook his head and changed the subject. "I mean…ugh, never mind. Well at least you don't have Slughorn for potions."

"But I've heard nothing but good things about him!" said Hermione. "Is he bad too?"

"He's worse!" said Draco. "He doesn't teach much. I'd rather be in Snape's class. There, you're guaranteed to learn."

"That _is_ true," said Hermione. "He is a bit mean and extremely unfair, but he does teach and you do learn a lot in his class."

"I wish I had him," mumbled Draco.

Hermione nodded and then glanced at her muggle watch and jumped up suddenly.

"I have to go or I'll be late to Charms," she said. "But I'll visit again soon, okay?"

"Yeah," said Draco, smiling at her. "Thanks for coming."

"Of course," said Hermione, brightly. She grabbed her bag, gave him a peck on the cheek, and skipped her way out of the hospital wing, leaving Draco by himself.

He put his head back down on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. Despite the fact that his arm was in pain, despite Flint's obnoxiousness and his parents' complete ignorance, and despite Snape being Snape, Draco actually felt much happier than he had all year. He had good friends. And they would never leave his side. That, as far as he was concerned, was all that mattered to him in that moment.

* * *

 **Thanks and don't forget to review!**


	9. Year 1: Christmas Cheers

**Disclaimer : Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks**

* * *

CHAPTER 9: YEAR 1—CHRISTMAS CHEERS

* * *

 _Harry_

* * *

"Fine, you don't want to tell me? You don't have to," said Ron, for the hundredth time that morning.

"Okay then," said Harry, smiling to himself as he folded his Hogwarts uniform and placed it inside his trunk.

"I don't even want to know that much anyway," said Ron, grumpily.

"Is that why you've been begging me to tell you all morning?" said Harry, smirking.

Ron scoffed and tossed his jumper into his own trunk. Beside him, Neville let out a small laugh.

It was the morning of leaving day. Harry, Ron, Neville, Dean and Seamus had all left packing until the last possible second, not wanting to leave. But now, they had to miss the farewell breakfast to take care of that. And Ron was really annoying Harry that morning.

Ever since Harry's conversation with Dumbledore, Ron had been prodding him to tell him what they'd talked about. But Harry had not yet revealed the contents of Sirius' last letter to either Ron or Neville. He had not told them about his conversation with Remus and he was not about to tell them the one with Dumbledore. He was simply not ready to tell people that he had this familial connection with Draco Malfoy of all people.

"Fine, don't tell me!" said Ron again.

Harry sighed.

"Look, I'll tell you when I feel like it, alright?"

Ron muttered something and tossed another jumper into his trunk.

The boys finally finished packing and brought their trunks down to the common room, where the other Gryffindors were already heading out with their things.

"Have a good break, boys!" Wood called over the heads of students to Harry and Ron.

"You too!" they called back, as they watched him climb through the portrait hole. They waited as the sea of students followed him out, before they themselves climbed out and headed down to the Entrance Hall.

Everyone everywhere was shouting "See you next year!" or "Merry Christmas!" or "Don't forget to write!" at each other. Teachers were also wishing students happy holidays and reminding them about last-minute assignments to be handed in next term. Harry, Ron and Neville carried their trunks out into the snow and followed everyone else for the long walk to Hogsmeade Station. The entire way there, Ron ranted about his mother's jumpers and how he was sure to get yet another one this year.

"It's alright, I'll get you a good gift," Harry promised. This cheered Ron a great deal.

"Hey Harry!" said Fred as he caught up with them. "What kind of broom do you reckon you'll get this year?"

"Not another Nimbus…?" said George, who joined on Harry's other side.

Ron let out a laugh.

"The new Nimbus is not coming out until August, guys!"

"I dunno if I'll even get a broom," said Harry. "Why? You guys looking to take my old ones?"

"Maybe…" said Fred and George together.

Harry laughed.

"Hey Harry, you should come over to our house on Christmas day!" said Ron, suddenly. "Mum's been dying to meet you."

"You mean Ginny," said Fred, dully.

"Ginny?" said Harry.

"My little sister," Ron explained. "According to mum, she talks about nothing but you."

"R-really?" said Harry, nervously.

"Ah don't worry about it," said George. "You only have to worry about them if they have them crazy eyes."

"Come to think of it, when was the last time you saw little Gin, George?" said Fred.

"Hmm…maybe she has the crazy eyes now," said George.

And, laughing wildly, they ran ahead to meet up with their friends. It was silent for a long time, when finally, Ron punched Harry playfully on the shoulder.

"My sister isn't crazy," he promised. "Honestly. That's just Fred being Fred."

"And George being George," Neville added.

"Exactly!" said Ron. "So, will you come then?"

"I dunno," said Harry, truthfully. "If mum lets me, I guess yeah."

"Great!" said Ron. "You can come too, Neville."

"Thanks," said Neville.

They finally reached the station and began to load their trunks onto the train. Harry spotted Hagrid standing at the end of the train and waved goodbye to him. The boys found a compartment all to themselves and said goodbye to Dean and Seamus, who were going to sit with a couple of buddies in Ravenclaw. Neville held Trevor close to him and took the window seat. Ron also had Pig in his hands. Harry had let Hedwig go out and fly for a bit so he contented himself with _Hogwarts: A History_. He needed to review in case his mother surprised him with some questions or references.

Most of the ride back to King's Cross was silent. Only at around noon, when the lady with the food trolley was making her rounds, did the boys actually start to talk. Ron got out a deck of cards and played some one-on-one with Harry, while Neville got started on another letter to James (which he was going to pass through Harry). The day passed fairly quickly and soon, the train hauled to a stop at King's Cross. Harry and Ron quickly helped Neville get his things out because they could already see Augusta waving impatiently from the other end of the platform. Neville quickly threw on his shoulder bag and took a hold of his trunk with one hand, and Trevor in the other.

"See you guys at Hogwarts then," he said to Harry and Ron.

"Wait, you'll come by on Christmas day, won't you?" said Ron, suddenly.

Neville hesitated.

"Y-yeah sure," he said.

Harry tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around and began to walk towards Augusta. Harry and Ron watched him for a few seconds, striding across the snowy platform, before Harry spotted two people waving at him happily not too far from her. Smiling at them, he helped Ron get his things out and then got his own.

"So I'll floo over to your house on Christmas Eve if my parents let me," Harry told Ron as they began to walk away from the train together.

"Sounds good," said Ron. He stopped and looked around the platform.

"Do you see your family anywhere?" Harry asked him.

"Nope," said Ron. "Though Fred and George will probably come find me after."

"Okay, let's go," said Harry.

His mother suffocated him in a big hug as soon as he was by her side. His father also pulled him into a tight hug and pulled him back to survey him.

"You've grown taller," he said, admiringly.

Harry grinned.

"Oh and you must be Ron!" exclaimed Lily and she gave him a big hug as well.

"Uh, hi, Mrs. Potter," said Ron, awkwardly but politely.

"Are your parents around here somewhere?" James asked him.

"Yeah, somewhere," said Ron, also looking around the platform of crowded parents and Hogwarts students.

"Well, we should wait for them," said Lily.

"Oh no that's fine," said Ron, quickly, and he pointed at redheaded Fred who was waving at him from the other end of the platform. "There they are."

The Potters looked behind Ron and indeed saw a large family of redheaded people hugging.

"Oh, isn't that nice?" said Lily, sweetly.

"Oh, we have to get going," said James, who glanced down at his watch and then back at Ron. "Do say hello to your parents from us. We'll have to meet at another time."

"Okay," said Ron. He turned to Harry and lowered his voice. "Hope to see you soon."

"Don't worry," said Harry, reassuringly.

He gave him a pat on the back and then picked up his bag and followed his parents through the magical barrier, while Ron went to join his own family.

* * *

"…and so that's why he gave me another detention," Harry concluded, as his parents led him through the front door to the living room of their house in Godric's Hollow.

"I see," his father said. He was very interested in hearing Harry's stories about his potions teacher. His mother however had kept quiet the entire time and simply hung her coat on the rack in the entryway and went into the kitchen to put her apron on. Harry helped his father haul his things up to his room and then joined him in the living room to watch a bit of television.

"When is Moony coming?" James asked Lily. She peered into the living room through the small kitchen window.

"Tomorrow evening," she answered. "And Sirius will be here Christmas Eve."

Harry made a face and quickly reached for the remote control to switch the channel. His father reached for the _Daily Prophet_ newspaper on the couch beside him and propped it open, placing his feet on the coffee table in front.

"Will Neville come too?" Harry asked his father after a few minutes of switching the channels.

"I don't think so, bud," said James, truthfully. Harry looked at him. "Augusta said she wants him to be at her house this holiday break."

"But that sucks!" Harry complained. "He's family! He should be here."

"My words exactly," James promised.

Harry sighed.

"So she's really not going to let him spend Christmas with us?"

"It's rude to say 'she', sweetheart," his mother reminded him through the window. He gave her an apologetic smile and turned back to his father.

"No, I'm afraid not," said James, sadly. "Augusta has been very stubborn of late."

"Shame," said Harry.

"Tis," agreed James.

Harry did not even think about telling his father that he'd read his letter to Neville a few months ago. He thought it best to keep that small detail of his first term at Hogwarts to himself. After all, he had told his parents every other detail—minus his and Ron's hooliganism every now and then (like sneaking out at night to play Quidditch). Though, he knew he'd be able to tell that to Sirius. Harry stopped himself instantly. Thinking about Sirius put a strange feeling in his stomach.

The rest of the day passed on very quickly and so did the next. Soon, Remus arrived and greeted Harry's parents with open hugs. Lily fed him tea and cookies and reminisced about the old Christmases they'd had as kids. Harry smiled, nodded and listened to all the stories that his parents and Remus told. And, soon enough, it was Christmas Eve. Harry spent half the day helping to clean the house and the other half helping his mother with the feast. He wasn't any good at cooking but he could certainly cut things, which according to Lily, was helpful enough.

While mother and son were busy in the kitchen, two old friends used their wands to put up a large Christmas tree in the sitting room. They decorated it quite abysmally, so that when Lily finally came out of the kitchen in the late afternoon, her heart nearly stopped at the sight of the _extremely_ colourful tree.

"W-why don't _I_ take care of…of… _that_ ," she said, "…and you two can go help Harry bring the food out?"

James and Remus shrugged and joined Harry in the kitchen. They heard Lily gasp a few times and chuckled to themselves. Then, when she wasn't looking, James pulled out his wand and magically moved all the dishes onto the dining room table. Harry watched his father perform magic in awe, hoping to one day be just like him.

The doorbell sounded then, and Harry's heart skipped a beat.

"That'll be Padfoot," his father said, happily, and he went to open the door.

Remus glanced at Harry who gave him an unconvincing smile and busied himself with setting the table.

"Ah, Sirius!" he heard his mother say, a little while later. "It's been so long—how have you been?"

"Ah you know, same old, same old," said Sirius, as the group made their way into the dining room. Sirius stopped at the sight of Harry and gave him a small smile.

"Hi Harry."

Harry blinked at him. His eyes landed on his mother taking Sirius' coat off, then on his father admiring a new black ring on Sirius' finger, and then on Remus who was watching Harry worriedly. Harry sighed, looked at Sirius, and smiled.

"Welcome home, Sirius," he said.

* * *

"So business has been good then?" said James.

"Oh yes, very much so," said Sirius. "Tommy has not disappointed me one bit—thanks for recommending him."

"Ah, anytime," said James, happily. "Hey Lils, pass the potatoes, will you?"

Lily picked up the bowl of mashed potatoes and passed them along the table to her husband.

"Are you alright, Harry dear?" she asked, finally noticing his quietness.

"What?" he said, looking up from his plate. "Oh. Yeah, I'm good."

"How's the Quidditch going?" Sirius asked.

It took a while before Harry realised he was talking to him. He screwed up another smile and said, "Really good. How about you?"

"Really good," Sirius answered, though he didn't seem pleased with Harry's answer.

The table fell silent then and the only sounds were the clanking of forks and knives on the plates as they ate.

"S-so, have you talked to your sis yet, Lils?" Sirius asked.

"No," said Lily, sadly. "She won't reply to my letters. I suppose she doesn't want to meet up this Christmas."

"Nah that's fine," said Sirius. "Forget about it. You've got us."

"Sure thing," said James.

Lily smiled.

Harry could feel Remus' intense gaze but didn't dare to look up and meet his eyes. He didn't want to have to explain why he was basically ignoring Sirius. It was just so hard to pretend that everything was the same when it really, really _wasn't_.

Halfway through the meal, James filled everyone's glasses and stood up.

"It's really a blessing for us all to be able to gather for yet another Christmas Eve dinner together," he announced. "Years ago, things could have easily gone another way."

"Well, not that easily," Sirius added.

Smirking, James continued.

"This one's to my beautiful family, sitting right here before me—you are all the most important people in my life. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas!" they said together.

When they moved on to the dessert, the conversations began again. Lily told the boys about the new recipe for pumpkin pie that she'd come across and they all took turns marvelling at her amazing cooking. Remus talked about how his classes were going and which students surprised him the most that term. He was sure to mention how well Harry was doing, which pleased Lily very much. When Sirius began to talk about his Quidditch team, Harry bore his eyes into his plate and concentrated hard on slicing his pie.

"…and anyway, I think you'd really like them, Harry," Sirius concluded after a long while.

"Huh?" said Harry, finally looking up at him.

"H-Harry, are you alright?" said Lily.

Harry smiled again.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said. The grownups stared at him for a good couple of seconds before returning to their desserts. Harry sighed. "So," he said, taking another deep breath. "Ron's invited me to come stay at his house tomorrow."

His mother's fork stopped halfway to her mouth and she stared at him.

"Oh?" his father said.

"Yeah, he wants me to meet his family," said Harry, shrugging. He glanced at his mother. "Can I go, mum?"

"Oh but sweetheart, you only just got back a few days ago!" she replied. "Surely there will be time for all of us to meet soon?"

Harry looked down at his plate.

Lily glanced at James who put down his fork too and leaned forwards.

"Son," he said. "I get it." Harry looked up and found his father smirking. "Go on."

"Really?" said Harry, grinning.

"But—" said his mother.

Remus put his hand on hers.

"That's alright Lils, let him go," he said, gently.

"Oh come on, darling," said James. "Let the boy go be with his new friends."

"Please mum?" said Harry, sweetly.

Lily looked from James to Remus to Sirius and then to Harry.

"Well when would you leave?"

"Tonight," said Harry, simply.

Lily raised her eyebrows.

"By floo powder," Harry added, and James nodded his agreement.

Lily sighed heavily.

"Whatever you like, dear," she said finally.

"Awesome, thanks!" exclaimed Harry, jumping from the table. "I've got to go pack some of my stuff."

"You'll stay there until the end of the holidays then?" said Lily, dully.

"Oh no, just for Christmas," said Harry, quickly. "I'll be back for New Year's, I promise."

He kissed his mother on the cheek and then dived for the stairs and up to his room. Once there, he looked around for all his scattered things and tossed whatever he thought he would need for that one day into his book bag, including Ron's Christmas gift. Once he was done, he shut all the lights in his room and headed back downstairs. However, he stopped in the corridor at the top of the stairs once he heard Sirius' voice.

"He knows, Prongs," he said.

Harry slowly and gently dropped his bag to the floor by his feet and strained his ears to listen.

"How does he know?" said his father's voice.

"Because I told him," said Sirius.

"Well what did you do that for?" said Lily, gently.

"I had to, Lils," sighed Sirius. "He asked me if I knew of a Draco Malfoy. I couldn't lie to the boy. He's like…he's like a son to me! Sorry, James."

"That's fine," said James.

"But he seems to have taken it rather well," said Lily to the table at large.

There was a pause. Harry craned his neck to listen.

"He's trying to put on a brave face, but I can see right through it," said Sirius.

"It just so happens that Harry came to me about this a few weeks back," said Remus.

"What?" said Lily and James together.

Harry held his breath. Moony wouldn't tell them, would he?

"Harry thinks that you have been lying to him your whole life, Sirius. He thinks that no one tells him anything because he's too young or immature to understand. He found your letter to Neville, James. He read it and he came to me about it. He was mostly worried that Neville had thought about running away, but he was also upset that he had not come to him about it. And now this secret has come out and it's just another thing that has been kept from him."

Yep, he told them.

Harry could not believe it.

"He was upset with me too," Remus added. "But I was in the hospital when he came to me about this, so he forgave me fairly quickly."

"Oh Remus," said Lily.

Harry grabbed his bag and meant to go down the stairs when he paused instantly.

"Imagine how he will react if he finds out about Snape," he heard his father say.

"Don't be ridiculous, James. Of course he'll find out," said Lily, quickly.

"Well he doesn't _have_ to know," said James.

"We are not keeping any secrets from our son," said Lily, firmly. "Besides, this will explain so much to him."

"About why Snape is such a toad?" said James.

And even though Harry could not see him, he imagined him smirking at Lily.

"About why he hates you all so much," Lily corrected.

"Perhaps a few years from now you will tell him, but he's too young to know that now," said Remus. "Don't forget—he sees Snape every day at school. He shouldn't know this just yet. It will only make it all the more difficult for him to face him."

"That's true," said Sirius.

Harry had had enough of this. He climbed down the stairs—rather noisily—and joined them in the dining room. They all looked up at him with broad smiles.

"I should go now," he announced.

"Alright," said James, jumping to his feet.

"Well, we'll see you back here day after tomorrow!" said Lily. Harry waved to her and then followed his father into the living room, where he handed him some floo powder.

"You good?" he asked, noticing the look on Harry's face.

"Yep, fine!" said Harry, brightly. "Thanks for letting me go, dad."

"Yeah, no problem," said James, as Harry stepped into the fireplace. "Say it nice and loudly."

" _Weasley Burrow_ ," said Harry and he threw the powder down and disappeared behind the emerald green flames instantly, the image of his father disappearing with him.

* * *

"Oh it's so nice to finally meet you, Harry dear," said Mrs. Weasley as she pulled him into a tight hug and brushed the ash from the fireplace off of his dusty shoulders. "Come in, come in."

Harry stepped into the kitchen and let her lead him to a chair.

"It's a pleasure to meet you too," he said to her.

"Ron has of course told us all about you in letter," said her husband, who was leaning against the door.

"Has he?" said Harry, as Mrs. Weasley continued to brush the soot off of him.

"Not _that_ much," Ron muttered, entering the kitchen. "Hey Harry."

"Hey Ron!" said Harry.

"Oh mum, leave him alone already!" he said, suddenly. Mrs. Weasley waved her hand at him and then poured some tea for Harry and handed him the cup. He accepted it graciously and then smirked at Ron and took a sip.

"How long will you be staying with us, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked him.

"Just a few days, if that's alright," said Harry. "My parents want me back for New Year's."

"Good, good," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Come on, lemme show you my room!" said Ron, quickly.

"Straight to bed, boys!" said Mrs. Weasley. Harry thanked her again and followed Ron up the crooked spiral stairs with his bag.

"Sorry about that," said Ron, suddenly as they reached the last landing. "Mum's really crazy when it comes to feeding people."

"That's fine," laughed Harry. "Whoa, this is your room?"

He looked around at all the Quidditch posters and grinned. The room was extremely orange, yet very cozy.

"It's nice!"

"It's nothing really," said Ron, shrugging.

"No, no it's brilliant!" said Harry.

Ron grinned.

"So, where am I sleeping?"

"Here of course!"

Ron pulled out two sleeping bags and set them on the floor. Harry tossed his bag in the corner and lay down, stifling a yawn.

"I'm tired," he said.

"Yeah me too," said Ron. They were silent for a bit. "Will Neville be coming too?"

"Nah his gran won't let him," said Harry.

"Oh," said Ron.

And just like that, they fell into a deep sleep, without even getting a chance to turn off the lights.

"Roooon!" shrieked a tiny voice.

Harry rubbed his eyes and sat up slowly, reaching around the floor for his glasses somewhere.

"ROOOOOOOOON!"

Ron groaned.

"Don't let her see me!" he hissed to Harry as he grabbed his pillow and hid behind it. Harry finally found his glasses and put them on, squinting at the bright daylight coming in through the window.

The bedroom door suddenly burst open and in came a little girl who stopped short at the sight of Harry. Her face went instantly red—as red as her short hair—and she stood completely frozen and wide-eyed.

"Hello," said Harry, sweetly.

The girl stared at him.

And then, just as if she had received an electric shock, she jumped up and ran out of the room, just like Harry had seen Jerry the mouse do many times before on his mother's favourite childhood television program, _Tom & Jerry_. Ron looked up from his pillow and sighed heavily.

"W-what did I do?" Harry asked him.

"That's just Ginny," said Ron, dismissively. "I'm tellin' you, she's been talking only about you since I came home!"

"R-really?"

"Yeah. And I told her that you would be coming for a few days but she didn't believe me." Ron paused. "She's really annoying."

"She seems nice," Harry offered.

"She's got the crazy eyes!" said Fred, who suddenly came into the room and slumped on Ron's bed. "Hiya Harry."

"Hey guys," said Harry as George came into the room as well and leaned against the wall.

"What are you guys doing here?" Ron asked them.

"And a Merry Christmas to you too, little bro," said Fred.

"Christmas!" exclaimed Ron and he sat up quickly and examined the small pile of presents at the foot of his sleeping bag. "Harry, we've got presents!"

Harry smiled at his own pile and began to tear at it with Ron.

"We heard Harry came yesterday," said George.

"Yeah by floo powder," Harry confirmed, as he examined a thick book Remus had given him, titled _Defensive Spells and How to Deflect Them_.

"Nice, nice," said George. He glanced at the little pile of presents beside Harry and smirked. "So, what'd you get?"

Fred sat up instantly.

"No broomsticks," said Harry, as he looked through the presents.

"Darn," said Fred. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a few coins, and tossed them at a smirking George. Ron grinned at them and then groaned as he revealed yet another jumper.

"Awe muuum," he whined.

Harry laughed. He opened up another book from his mother, and then something strange-looking from Sirius.

"Blimey!" said Fred, looking at it. "That's a sneakerscope! Dad got me one last year."

"What's it do?" said Harry, curiously.

"It tells you when there is someone untrustworthy in the room," said George, taking it from Fred's hands and examining it.

"Sweet!" said Ron, who had unwrapped a few chocolate frogs and was now examining the cards he'd earned.

"Uh Ron, those frogs were Harry's," said George, pointing at a small card attached to the wrapping paper with Harry's name on it.

Ron dropped the cards at once and glanced at Harry worriedly. Harry laughed. There was chocolate sticking out of Ron's mouth.

"It's okay, you keep them," he said, smiling at his friend.

"Really?" Ron mumbled with his mouth full.

Fred and George shook their heads in unison.

"Yeah, they're Hagrid's gift," explained Harry. "He gets me the same thing every year. I have loads of cards collected already."

"FREDDD! GEORRRRRRGE!"

"Coming mum!" Fred yelled.

"You guys better come down soon too," George warned. "It's the Christmas breakfast mum always looks forward to the most."

Harry and Ron nodded, still looking at their presents. Fred and George disappeared from the room, and then seconds later a small redheaded figure ran past the room very quickly. Ron shook his head.

"What's that?" he asked Harry, pointing at a large, nicely wrapped package that Harry had overlooked.

"Dunno," he said, reaching for it and examining it. There was a note on the front:

 _Harry,_

 _My father gave this to me many Christmases ago, and now it is time that I passed it on to you. Moony and Padfoot used to use this with me when we were at Hogwarts, but your mother still doesn't know about it to this day, so don't let her see it._

 _Merry Christmas,_

 _Your Father_

Harry put the note aside and carefully unwrapped the package.

"What is it?" Ron asked.

"Some kind of…cloak," said Harry, unfolding the silky material.

"Well, let's see then, put it on," said Ron.

Harry got to his feet and wrapped the cloak around his shoulders. Ron's jaw dropped, as did the many chocolate frogs from his lap once he stood up.

"WHOA!" he said, staring at Harry.

Harry stared at him and then looked down at where his body was supposed to be, but was no longer in sight.

"My body's gone!" he exclaimed, staring down at thin air.

"That's an _invisibility cloak_!" Ron cried.

Harry shushed him quickly. Ron shut his door and then turned around to admire the cloak which Harry was now taking off and beaming at.

"They're supposed to be _really_ rare," Ron told him.

"Yeah, I know," said Harry.

"Awe, your dad is the _coolest_!" exclaimed Ron.

Harry smiled.

"Just wait until Fred and George find out you have this!" Ron went on.

"No!" said Harry, quickly. He looked up at Ron seriously. "They can't know. No one can."

"But Harry—?!"

"Don't worry Ron, we'll have loads of fun with this. It'll make our Hogwarts days even better. But no one can know. It…it'll be our little secret. Okay?"

Ron sighed.

"Okay."

As soon as they were dressed, the boys joined the rest of the family downstairs for the special Christmas breakfast. Mrs. Weasley couldn't have looked happier to have everyone together. Apparently, Ron's oldest brothers Bill and Charlie were rarely ever home anymore, but even they joined in that year, which made everyone ecstatic. Harry was pleased to meet them all and they seemed to really like him as well—though, not nearly as much as Ginny obviously did. She could barely look Harry in the eyes, which made him slightly uncomfortable. Nevertheless, he tried to be as nice as he possibly could.

After breakfast, the boys ran to get their broomsticks and play a little two on two Quidditch out in the snowy field. The Weasleys had the Shooting Star broomsticks which made Harry feel really bad about his Nimbus 2000 (which he'd brought with him to the Burrow). He made a mental note to get Ron a really good broomstick next Christmas, instead of the brand new Wizard's Chess set that he'd bought him this year. Though, Ron seemed absolutely ecstatic with it, which made Harry feel a little bit better.

Just as he was about to mount his broom however, Mrs. Weasley came rushing out of the little house.

"Harry, dear!" she called out to him. "There is someone here to see you!"

Harry frowned.

"M-me?"

"Yes, dear, come along. AND BOYS, IT'S TOO COLD OUT TO PLAY! GET BACK INSIDE NOW!"

"Awe man," said Ron, lowering himself back down to the snow.

He, Fred and George stayed behind while Harry walked back to the house. As he stepped through the doorway, he heard voices from the kitchen.

"Are you sure you won't like a cup of tea?" Mrs. Weasley was saying as Harry came into the kitchen.

"Oh you're too kind, Molly, but I really only just need to have a quick word with Harry and then I'll be off," said Sirius, finally meeting Harry's eyes.

"So, what are you doing here?" Harry asked as they walked along the snowy hill.

"We needed to talk," said Sirius. "And you wouldn't even look me in the eye back at home."

"What do you want to talk about?" Harry asked.

Sirius stopped walking. Harry stopped too. He was still avoiding his eyes.

"I realise you're upset with me," said Sirius. "I'm not an idiot, you know."

"I didn't say you were," said Harry.

There was a moment of silence.

"Look at me, son."

Harry hesitated, then looked.

"I'm sorry," said Sirius. He placed both his hands on Harry's shoulders and leaned forwards. "I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you, alright?"

"Okay," said Harry, quietly.

"Okay," said Sirius. "Now will you give me one of your great big smiles and tell me that everything is alright now?"

Harry smiled.

"Everything is alright now," he said.

"Good," said Sirius, letting out a bark-like laugh. He pulled Harry into a hug and then patted him on the back and continued with the walk.

"I can't believe you came all the way here just to say sorry," Harry admitted after a while.

"I can't stand you being mad at me," Sirius told him. "You're my Godson."

Harry smiled again.

"So," he said. "Malfoy, huh?"

"Yeah," said Sirius, looking up at the sky. "Malfoy."

"Hey, d'you know that dad gave me his invisibility cloak for Christmas?" said Harry, suddenly.

Sirius looked round at him and smirked.

"Did he now?"

"Yep!"

Sirius beamed up ahead.

"The number of times Prongs, Moony and I disappeared behind it," he said, reminiscently. "You, Ron and Neville will have lots of fun with it."

"Yeah," agreed Harry. "Only mum doesn't know about it."

"Oh no, she definitely doesn't," said Sirius. "She would probably kill James if she knew. That cloak is a ticket to hundreds and hundreds of detentions—believe you me."

Harry laughed.

They walked silently for a while.

"Does…does he know?" said Harry. "Malfoy, I mean…about you being his uncle…"

"Second cousin, actually," said Sirius. "And I don't think so. My entire family said I was dead to them the moment I joined the Order back in the war."

"Ah," said Harry.

"Malfoy's kid is a stranger to me," said Sirius, finally. "And I am no longer connected to that part of my family. You guys—you, your mother and father, and Remus of course—are my family now."

"And you're mine," said Harry, and as he looked up at his Godfather, all thoughts of resentment and betrayal left his mind at once, and he beamed at him.

* * *

 _Draco_

* * *

"Well how about the _Rictosempra?_ " said Crabbe.

"Yep," said Draco.

"And the _Serpensortia_?" said Crabbe.

"Yes," sighed Draco.

"Blimey," said Crabbe. "You can do every spell out there!"

"Every _first_ year spell, that is," said Blaise.

Draco hit him with his copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ and smirked as he tossed it into his trunk.

It was the night before the start of the Christmas holidays. The boys were up in their dormitory packing their things for tomorrow. Draco had been released from the hospital wing just that morning and still had his cast on. Crabbe had of course spilled an ink bottle on it the first chance he got—how very typical of him—so the cast was now semi black.

"You're the smartest person I know, Malfoy!" said Crabbe, as Draco folded up his uniform shirt and placed it in his bag.

"That's no compliment," said Blaise.

Draco let out a bark of laughter. Crabbe simply scratched his head.

"You can't even do the simplest spells, Crabbe," Blaise explained. "And you're telling Draco that he's the god of dueling or something."

"Hey," said Draco, turning to look at Blaise from across the room. "I might not be a god but I'm not bad at dueling."

"Mhm," said Blaise. "Nice cast by the way."

Draco rolled his eyes at him and proceeded with his packing.

The rest of the evening was fairly quiet. As soon as the boys were finished with their packing, they went right to sleep. In the morning, Draco enlisted Goyle's help with getting dressed and then followed the boys down for the leaving breakfast banquet. Everything smelled so fresh and so good, and yet Draco couldn't even chew on a little bit of toast. His stomach was not cooperating that morning. He knew that once he got home, there wouldn't be that much good food to eat, but he still couldn't bring himself to chow down something. Perhaps Blaise would buy snacks on the train ride back home.

Sitting in the Great Hall, Draco glanced at the Gryffindor table and scanned it for a moment until he found Hermione. She was talking to a girl with a long black braid. Potter and Weasley and their friends were nowhere in sight. Gits.

"Come on," said Blaise at the end of breakfast, as the boys got up from the table and headed for the exit. "Let's go get our stuff. I want to be the first to get to Hogsmeade station."

"Why?" said Goyle.

"So we get good seats, stupid!" said Blaise.

Draco's eyes were on Hermione, who was also leaving with a group of Gryffindors. Though, she looked to be following behind them rather than with them.

"We also have to take Draco's stuff for him," Blaise was saying.

"Right," said Crabbe. "Uh why?"

Blaise shook his head.

"Because he's _crippled_!" he cried.

"Hey!" said Draco, wheeling around to look at him.

Blaise smirked.

"Come on, let's go."

"Uh, you guys go on," said Draco, suddenly. Hermione had spotted him and stopped walking instantly. She stood there, in the middle of the Entrance Hall, waiting.

"What about you?" said Blaise.

Draco blinked.

"I have to go ask Flitwick to change the grade on my midterm," he lied. "I'll surely get smacked if I bring home anything lower than—"

"Perfect?" said Blaise, grinning.

"Right," said Draco.

"Nerdy git," said Blaise, shaking his head. He turned round and went in the direction of the dungeons, followed closely by Crabbe and Goyle. Sighing, Draco approached Hermione.

"Hey you!" she said happily, once he'd reached her.

"Hey you," he said, smiling.

"How's the arm doing?"

"Today? Fine."

"And yesterday?"

"Not so good."

Hermione frowned.

"But Madame Pomfrey can fix anything!"

Draco laughed.

"Don't worry about me, it'll be fine."

Hermione nodded.

"So," she said, slowly. "My parents said that if you want to come over for Christmas dinner, you can."

Draco stared at her.

"W-what?"

"Yeah well I told them about you, of course. How could I not? And they said they'd like to meet you eventually. Why wouldn't they? And they know we're coming home for the holidays so they said that would be a perfect time and mum can cook a traditional muggle Christmas meal and I told her you don't know anything about it so it'll be quite a surprise for you and also I didn't think you would mind the invitation to spend Christmas Eve at my house, giving your family's…well, you know. Anyway, so they're expecting you at our house at 6 but if you don't want to, they totally understand. I mean I do—I totally understand. But just pop in if you change your mind and oh it'll be so great if you come, we could play like we used to, and—"

"Whoa Hermione, take a breath at least!" said Draco suddenly.

Hermione smiled and took a deep breath.

"You really didn't have to…do that," said Draco, quietly.

"I know," said Hermione. "But I wanted to. It'll be so great if we can spend Christmas together."

"I…" said Draco, glancing around the empty hall. "I mean I dunno if I'll even be able to come."

"Well just come if you can then," said Hermione, simply.

Draco gave her a small smile and nodded.

"Well, I've got to go collect my things," said Hermione. "Have a good trip home!"

"Bye," said Draco, and he watched her climb the marble staircase and turn the corner over to Gryffindor tower.

"What took you so long?" Blaise complained as he loaded their bags onto the train an hour later.

"I came back up to the dormitory but you guys were already gone," said Draco, truthfully. "I had to walk here by myself."

"Well alright," said Blaise. "We grabbed your stuff."

"Thanks," said Draco.

Blaise's owl soared up and sat on his shoulder. Draco petted him for a few seconds and then boarded the train. The boys found the compartment that Crabbe and Goyle had reserved for them quickly. Draco took the seat by the window and Blaise sat next to him. For the first half hour or so, they boys sat in silence. Crabbe slept for a bit, filling the compartment with the sound of his annoying snores. Afterwards, the boys livened up a bit and played some cards. By the time the lady with the food trolley was making her rounds, they were all cheered up.

"So you don't have any cousins or anything like that then?" Blaise asked Draco as he unwrapped another chocolate frog. Across from him, Crabbe and Goyle were pigging out on Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.

"Nope," Draco answered Blaise. "I live with my parents and I don't have any other relatives."

"Blimey, that sucks," said Blaise. "I have loads of cousins from both sides. Our Christmases are usually really big, you see."

"Yeah, mine are really small," said Draco.

"How did you meet Granger then?" said Blaise.

Draco blinked at him.

"What?" said Blaise.

"You've never called her Granger before," Draco pointed out. "What happened to 'muggleborn'?"

"Oh whatever," said Blaise. "You came to Hogwarts already knowing her, didn't you?"

"Yeah, she lives not far from me," said Draco, biting into a licorice wand that Blaise had bought him.

"Makes sense," said Blaise. "Look, I know I'm all crazy about bloodlines and everything…I can't help it. I'm—"

"A Slytherin," said Draco. "Yeah, I know."

"But so are you!" said Blaise. "And I can't understand why you're not crazy about it either."

Draco paused.

"Well the idea does kind of make sense to me," he admitted. Blaise looked up at him. "You know… people who don't have any trace of magical blood but can do magic…I dunno, something's not right there."

"Exactly!" said Blaise. "EXACTLY! So you get it! Blimey, thank—the—lord. I was worried you really didn't get it."

"Of course I get it!" Draco defended. "But it doesn't bother me, you see. I…I don't really care."

Blaise frowned.

"Your bloodline doesn't say if you're a good or bad person," Draco explained. "And Hermione's a good person."

"She's as annoying as they come," Blaise muttered.

Draco smirked.

"So what do your parents do then?" Blaise asked after a moment's silence.

Draco paused.

"Mother works at home," he said. "And…father moves between jobs."

"I see," said Blaise. "Is that why you wear second-hand robes and carry second-hand books?"

Draco stared at him.

"You…?"

"Yeah, of course I noticed!" said Blaise. "I come from a really rich family, Draco. I can sort of tell the difference."

Draco paused.

"My parents were among those who lost everything when the war ended."

"Makes sense," Blaise nodded. He looked at Draco and sighed. "Don't fret—you've got me for all the good stuff. Here, have another chocolate frog."

Draco caught it in time and grinned at him.

Suddenly, a loud snore made him jump and that's when he and Blaise realised that both Crabbe and Goyle had fallen asleep in their seats, the Bertie Bott's beans scattered on their laps and seats. Unable to contain themselves, Draco and Blaise burst into wild laughter.

"What about you?" Draco asked once they'd finally calmed down. "What do your parents do?"

"They both work at the ministry," Blaise answered.

"Ah," said Draco. "Hence all the money."

"Obviously," said Blaise.

His owl—which had been sitting by the window next to Goyle this entire time—soared up to his shoulder again and Blaise petted him absentmindedly.

"I don't have any pets," said Draco.

"Yeah, so I've noticed," said Blaise, who was shuffling through his chocolate frog cards. "What would you want if you got a pet?"

Draco frowned. He'd never actually given it much thought before. Everyone else either had owls or rats or cats or, in Longbottom's case, toads. But Draco couldn't see himself with an owl, a rat, a cat or even a toad. He wasn't sure what his animal was just yet and he said this much to Blaise, who shrugged in response.

"You don't have to have a pet," he finally said. "You can have a Crabbe and a Goyle instead."

Draco laughed out loud, glancing sideways at the two boys snoring in their sleep. His eyes landed on the beautiful, majestic owl on Blaise's shoulder again.

"What's his name, by the way?" Draco asked.

"Horus," said Blaise.

Draco stared at him.

"What?" said Blaise, finally noticing.

"Horus?" repeated Draco, smirking. "As in…as in the Egyptian god, Horus?"

"The what?"

Draco laughed.

"Horus was one of the mythical gods that them muggle Egyptians believed in for hundreds of years."

"How do you—?"

"I read about it in some muggle books when I was younger."

"Ah," said Blaise. "I dunno—my mum suggested the name."

"So your mum's a muggle then?" said Draco. "I thought you were a pureblood."

"I _am_ ," said Blaise, tiredly. "Mum's not a muggle. Her father is though. She's half-blood."

Draco frowned.

"But she's cut all ties with that part of her family," Blaise added quickly.

"Why?" said Draco.

"Well, I just said, didn't I?" said Blaise. "Her father is a _muggle_."

"So that's why she doesn't talk to him anymore?"

"Yeah, of course!"

Draco frowned again and looked out the window.

"I can't believe how easy it is," he said, thoughtfully, "To just banish someone because of a small thing like that."

"Serves him right," said Blaise, simply. "Come on, let's play another round."

He grabbed the deck of cards from Draco's side and began to deal them again. Draco watched the hills in the window move as the train soared forwards. He wondered whether his parents had ever had anyone like that in the family, who they completely cut out of their lives because of a small, insignificant thing like bloodline. And even as Draco turned away from the window and played one-on-one with Blaise, he found himself thinking: how twisted was this world, really?

When the train finally pulled into King's Cross later that day, Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle helped Draco take his things down and carried them out of the train. They stood with him for a while as he scanned the snowy station platform, looking over the heads of students embracing their parents. Perhaps he would take the muggle train back home? However, as Draco was about to say this out loud, he spotted a blonde woman standing at the back somewhere, huddled in a coat and leaning against a pillar. Surprised, he turned back to his friends.

"I've got to go," he told them.

"Okay, here," said Blaise, handing him one of his bags. Draco took it with his good hand and threw another bag over his shoulder. "Be sure to write!"

Draco nodded.

"But we're only gone for like a week," said Goyle.

"It doesn't matter," said Blaise. "Write!"

"I will," promised Draco, and he was off.

Once he reached his mother, she moved away from the pillar and surveyed him with her eyes. He couldn't put a coat on because of the cast so he had on a turtleneck sweater and his Slytherin scarf. He looked up at his mother nervously as she eyed him. He really hadn't expected her to show up. He thought he'd have to find his way home on his own, just like he'd come to the station on his own, back in September.

"Let's go," she said, finally.

She grabbed his bags and led the way through the magical barrier and into the muggle world. Draco followed silently. Narcissa paid for a muggle car to take them home and Draco sat next to her as they drove off. For the first couple of minutes, they were completely silent. Draco watched the snow from his window. Now that he thought about it, an owl wouldn't be so bad. He'd be able to easily send letters to his friends. Though, before now he'd never had the need to do so because he'd never had any friends.

"So how did you break it?" his mother finally asked.

Draco looked sideways at her.

"I was dueling someone," he said, in a low voice so that the muggle driver wouldn't hear.

There was no use in lying. Snape would tell her the truth either way.

"How smart of you," Narcissa muttered, her eyes on her own window.

Draco said nothing. What was he supposed to say? They hadn't spoken since he'd left for Hogwarts. Not a word. And now, things were just…different.

"Mum," he asked once the car finally halted to a stop and she got out.

She blinked at him.

"How have things been?" Draco asked. "How is father?"

Narcissa looked away from him and grabbed his bags. The muggle drove away, leaving the two of them on the hill. They began to make their way through the heavy snow over to their little house that could already be seen in the distance.

"Fine," Narcissa replied. "Working, cleaning, cooking, the usual…"

"Right," said Draco. "Yeah, I've been pretty busy too—lots of homework every day and many things to do. You know, Sev is not my potions teacher."

"He's not?" said Narcissa.

"No, it's some old guy called Slughorn," said Draco. "He is teaching the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs, and Sev is teaching the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws this year. Apparently they rotate?"

"I didn't know that," said Narcissa. "So Severus is not your teacher at all this year? You don't see him?"

"Oh no, I see him," said Draco. "We…we talk."

"And how is he doing?"

Draco hesitated.

"He's fine."

They walked back to the house in silence. Narcissa told him to bring his things upstairs while she went to set the teapot. Draco dumped his things in the corner of the room and looked around. It had been months since he'd last been there. The room was exactly the same. A plain bed, plain desk and chair, and plain closet—nothing special. He glanced over at the window sill and spotted his old friend crawling along the frame of the window.

"Hey there," Draco said, approaching him.

The spider paused.

"I'm back," said Draco. "Well, only for a week. I'll be leaving again soon, thank the lord."

He reached out with his fingers and touched the spider gently. It did not move.

"I think it's about time I named you, don't you?" said Draco. He thought for a moment. "Alan…Al for short."

He heard the tea kettle downstairs and decided to go join his mother. She glanced at him as he walked through the kitchen and then busied herself again with the cups and spoons. Draco sat at the table and waited.

"W-where is father?" he asked.

Narcissa did not reply. She poured him a cup and handed it to him, while for herself she placed sugars into her own cup. She sat across from him at the little table, took a few sips, and then began to slice the small loaf of bread on the table in front of her. Only after she'd bit into her slice and washed it down with more tea, did she set the teacup and look at her son.

"Your father is out for the night, and it'll probably be a while before he comes back," she said.

Draco blinked at her.

"W-why?" he asked. "Where did he…?"

"I'm not sure, sweetheart," said Narcissa, quietly. She continued to drink her tea and looked sideways at the clock on the wall. "I don't think we'll do Christmas this year. I'm just…not in the mood."

Draco stared at her.

"These bloody holidays always come at the worst possible time," his mother added a few minutes later. Draco slowly nodded, but said nothing.

"You know," said Narcissa after a while, "Slughorn taught your father and me too."

"He did?"

"He is notoriously famous for his Slug Club meetings—your father was a proud member in his fifth year."

"What are Slug Club meetings?"

"Just some rubbish Slughorn came up with—selecting the best students in the school and getting together with them for dinner every once in a while, discussing all the amateurs…bragging about their perfectness…arrogantly discussing their plans for the future and where they would end up and with whom."

Draco listened as his mother went on and on about how stupid the club was and how it didn't mean anything in the end because no one amounted to what they'd hoped for. Though Draco did not understand much of what his mother was talking about, he still listened. It was the most they had talked in years. It felt nice. Unfamiliar, yes. But nice.

The next morning, Draco came down to the kitchen and found his mother and father sitting together at the table, eating in silence.

"H-hello," said Draco quietly.

His father looked up at him and smiled.

"Ah, hello there son," he said, grabbing some more toast and carelessly spreading butter all over it. "How's it going?"

"Good," said Draco, nervously. His mother kept her eyes on her coffee cup.

"How are your studies?" Lucius asked.

"I have perfect scores," said Draco.

"Good, good," said Lucius. "That's very good—because education is the most important thing out there, right Cissy?"

Narcissa gave him a really sharp look. Lucius smirked at her and continued to eat.

Draco never did find out what was going on. All he knew was that for the next couple of days, they pretended not to know each other. His father would leave to go to work and then be back late in the evenings when Draco was already in bed. They only really talked at breakfast time, and even then, it was small, one-worded chats. Narcissa was not as mean to Draco as she used to be, but still pretty cold towards him. By Christmas Eve, Draco was already wishing that he'd stayed behind at school. In fact, he had no idea why he had come back home at all. Maybe it was because he was still hopeful that they would miss him or want to know how he was doing. Maybe it was because he'd forgotten how bad it really was. Whatever the reason, he was now counting the days until he went back.

Over the next couple of days, Draco's arm got a lot better and soon he was able to take his cast off completely and move the arm around freely. This was really good. He hated people looking at him with pity. It was the last thing that he wanted.

Narcissa had kept true to her word and did not prepare anything special for Christmas Eve. In fact, at around 6 o'clock she went up to her room to rest, on account of a terrible headache she'd had all day. As usual, Lucius was not home, so Draco found himself sitting in the living room, staring at the clock on the wall, thinking. If he had stayed at Hogwarts, he would be having a nice big feast right now with all the teachers. But even though the thought of feasting with the Hogwarts teachers while they looked down at him pityingly was absolutely revolting, he had to admit it was loads better than this—no Christmas at all.

At around half past six, Draco sprung to his feet and went to look out the window. It was snowing heavily and the wind was howling. But he really didn't want to stay behind there. It was too depressing. So, he slowly pulled on his coat, grabbed a hat and scarf, and crept up the stairs to check that his mother was sleeping. She was. Feeling nervous that he would get into trouble, he slowly tiptoed back downstairs and exited out the back door. The weather was absolutely terrible and Draco walked backwards half the way, fighting against the violent wind to get to the Granger house. By the time he reached the row of large muggle houses, he was completely covered in snow and could no longer tell his hair apart from it. He rang the doorbell and waited.

The door opened, revealing a tall man that Draco had only seen once before in his life…at Diagon Alley, over the summer…though, from a distance. The man smiled at him and held out his hand. Draco shook it.

"Welcome, son," said Mr. Granger.

* * *

It really was a traditional muggle Christmas meal. Mrs. Granger had gone full out, no doubt because she'd been expecting Draco to come and really wanted him to experience a muggle Christmas. Hermione was absolutely delighted that he'd decided to come after all. She was even more pleased to see that he'd taken off his cast and was all better now. Draco was extremely polite all throughout dinner. He helped Mrs. Granger set the table and then he helped her clear the dishes. Mr. Granger brought out the tea and cakes and the four of them sat by the fireplace in the large living room afterwards.

"Hermione's of course told us so much about Hogwarts," Mr. Granger was saying. "We still can't believe it—to this day."

"Yeah, it must be hard," said Draco.

"I thought only such things existed in fairytales," said Mrs. Granger. "Cinderella, Snow White, oh but what am I saying? You have no idea what I'm talking about. Silly me."

"Well actually mum," said Hermione. "Draco knows more about muggles than you'd think."

"Yeah," said Draco, who reached for another gingerbread cookie.

"Can you believe it? We played together for a whole summer before either of us knew that the other was going to Hogwarts!" said Hermione, happily.

"I still can't believe neither of you ever noticed the signs in the other," said Mr. Granger.

"Well, we've lived with our daughter her whole life and _we_ never noticed the signs," said Mrs. Granger.

"Yeah but she only started showing them a couple of years ago though, didn't she?" said Mr. Granger.

"Not true!" said Mrs. Granger. "Don't you remember the time when she made my mother's beautiful flower vase explode? She was only 6, I believe."

"She was not!" said Mr. Granger.

And so they went on, arguing about how old Hermione had been when she'd performed accidental magic. Meanwhile, Hermione leaned towards Draco.

"It's stopped snowing," she told him, quietly.

"Meadow?" he mouthed to her.

She nodded.

They got up at the same time and slowly began to descend from the room, while Mr. Granger and Mrs. Granger continued on arguing playfully.

Outside, the snow had indeed stopped, and so had the wind. It was so nice and quiet. Fresh blankets of untouched snow lay spread out everywhere as Draco and Hermione made their way over to their favourite spot in the meadow, halfway between their houses. As soon as they reached it, they dropped to the ground and lay in the snow, staring up at the white night sky.

"That was loads of fun," Draco said. "Thanks for inviting me."

"For sure," said Hermione.

"I know you only did it because my parents are awful," said Draco.

"No," said Hermione, quickly.

"It's fine," said Draco, smiling. "I appreciate it. You saved my Christmas."

"How…how are they?"

"They're barely speaking to each other now, and my mother said she's not in the mood to do Christmas this year."

"I can't believe it…how do you simply not do Christmas?"

"You should ask _her_ that. Anyway, I'm really glad I came."

"I'm really glad you came too."

They lay in silence for the next little while, listening to the owls up in the snowy pine trees.

"I noticed you don't have any pets," said Draco. "How come?"

"Oh," said Hermione. "Well, I don't know. I just never got around to getting one."

"Would you want one?"

"I suppose so…"

"What would you get?"

"I dunno… a cat maybe."

They fell silent again.

"I have Alan," said Draco.

"Who?"

"My spider."

"Y-you have a spider for a pet?"

Hermione turned around in the snow to look at him.

"In my house, anything is possible," Draco joked. Hermione cracked a small smile, and then grew serious again.

"I have to tell you something."

Draco turned to look at her. Hermione struggled for a moment and then looked back up at the sky and took a deep breath.

"Back at the Sorting Ceremony," she began. "The hat had this whole conversation with me."

"Yeah, it did with me too," said Draco. "It does with everybody, I think."

"Well," Hermione continued. "It said that it saw two possible houses for me. I assume one of them was Gryffindor, but the hat never told me what the other one was."

"Slytherin, maybe?" said Draco.

"Maybe," Hermione agreed. "But it asked me a series of questions."

"W-what kind of questions?"

"Well…" she paused. "What I would do in certain situations, for example."

"I see."

"A-and… well… the hat said that most of my answers leant towards bravery more than anything else."

"Oh," said Draco, finally realising where she was going with this.

"So that's why!" Hermione cried suddenly, and she turned her back on him. "It's my fault, okay? I'm the reason we were put into different houses. I practically forced the hat to place me in Gryffindor. It had no choice!"

"It's okay," said Draco, suddenly. "Really, it's fine."

"It…it is?" said Hermione, turning back to look at him again.

"Yeah," said Draco, in the most convincing voice he could muster. "It's like you said back at the hospital wing; who's to say we have to stop being friends just because of it, right?"

"Right," said Hermione. "Yeah, you're right."

Draco gave her a small smile and then looked up at the sky again.

"This is nice," she said. "Just like old times."

"Yeah, it is," said Draco.

"Let's not ever fight again."

"Only if you let Slytherin win the house cup."

Hermione gasped.

"No way!" she exclaimed. "It's a fair game!"

"Oh, is it?" said Draco, sitting up and smirking at her.

"Yes!" said Hermione, sitting up too.

"Well fine then," said Draco. And out of nowhere, he rounded up a pile of snow in his hand and thrust it right at Hermione's face.

She gasped and wiped the snow off of her face, while Draco sprung to his feet and began to run.

"Oh, you'd better keep running!" Hermione called after him as she jumped to her feet too, grabbed as much snow as she could hold, and ran after him.

By the time Draco snuck back into the house and tiptoed up to his room, he felt loads better. Sure, so Hermione had taken part in her sorting in Gryffindor. It wasn't her fault. She hadn't even known she was doing it. If anything, the hat had tricked her. And Draco didn't exactly think that he had been wrongly misplaced. He'd known all along that he would be going to Slytherin so there were no surprises there. He wasn't really mad about the situation anymore. He just had to finally accept it. And being in different houses was most certainly not the end of his friendship with Hermione.

As Draco got into bed and turned off his lamp, he thought about what Blaise had said about his mother cutting her father out of her life because he was a muggle. Draco really didn't understand it. Muggle or not, he was her father! They were family. Was that not reason enough to keep in touch? He only hoped that if he ever married and it was someone his parents did not exactly approve of, that they wouldn't cut him out of their lives. Although, come to think of it, he really didn't think he'd care much. They already weren't in his life that much. They didn't care enough to write to him at Hogwarts. He doubted they'd even gotten him anything for Christmas. Why did they hate him so much? It couldn't just be about the war anymore…could it?

Draco awoke early next morning and was slightly startled to find a small pile of presents at the foot of his bed—a very small pile indeed. He blinked at them for a couple of seconds, rubbed his eyes, and then stared at them again. They were definitely there, and not just figments of his imagination. Smiling slightly, he leapt out of bed and began to unwrap them. His mother _had_ gotten him something; a scarf. That was nice. The card said it was from his mother and father. Draco doubted his father had actually taken any part in the making of the scarf. Oh well.

He moved on to the next present and found that Blaise had gotten him a Sneakerscope. That was nice. He'd seen them around Diagon Alley but had never actually owned one. He could already imagine how much it would spin once he was in the same room as Marcus Flint. Hermione had gotten him two new books—one wizardry (about Quidditch) and one muggle (The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes). Draco smiled to himself. Crabbe and Goyle had gotten him two large boxes of chocolate frogs. That'd be a lot of cards collected. Draco collected all of his things and put them away. Just as he was about to go downstairs for breakfast, he realised that he'd missed one package. It was really long and it lay at the foot of his bed. He stared at it, puzzled. Who else was left?

He slowly unwrapped the package, his heart thumping loudly against his chest. He let the wrapping paper fall to his feet and eyed the beautiful, wonderful, _glorious_ new broomstick. He gaped at it for a good couple of seconds, and then found the note attached to it and unfolded it with trembling fingers:

 _I'd advise you not show it to any of your friends until this coming August. That is when this Nimbus 2001 will officially launch. But I was able to get it for you from a friend of a friend. Use it well._

 _Severus_

Draco's eyes were absolutely sparkling with glee as he folded the note back up and took his new Nimbus 2001 in his hands and weighed it. It was so beautiful…so shiny…so new! He could hardly wait to mount it. But just as he was about to run downstairs to do just that, he quickly decided against the idea. It was better to keep the broom a secret from his mother and father, for the time being. Otherwise, who knows…they'd probably even try to sell it.

Feeling happier than he'd ever felt in his entire life, Draco gently placed the broom on the inside of his closet, gaped at it for a couple of more minutes, and then closed the door and went downstairs to eat breakfast.

* * *

 **AN: ANSWERS TO YOUR QUESTIONS:**

 **Hermione will not—I repeat—WILL NOT end up with Harry or Ron. There is absolutely NO chance of that happening in this story, so you needn't worry. But I won't tell you about any other pairings. I'd much rather hear your theories. Also, I know it looks like only Draco's had it bad so far. As the story progresses, BOTH boys will be tortured with things going on in their separate lives.**

 **As for Voldemort, I can't say much without spoiling the story. There is another Horcrux that exists out there. Interpret this however you like. But I will remind you of that conversation Harry and Dumbledore had last chapter. It's very important.**

 **Anyways, hope you enjoyed the chapter and the next one will be updated in a couple of days! Thanks~**


	10. Year 1: Secrets

**AN: This is the first chapter where I've written Draco's perspective first and then Harry's. Usually I just go Harry, Draco, Harry, Draco. Anyway, hope you enjoy it and please review! **

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks**

* * *

CHAPTER 10: YEAR 1—SECRETS 

* * *

_Harry_

* * *

Harry and Ron were very pleased to see Neville when they boarded the Hogwarts Express at the end of the holidays. And Neville also looked much happier than he'd ever been before, which Harry guessed had something to do with the amazing Christmas gift that James had gotten him. Neville confirmed it so by pulling out the brand new wand that would replace that old thing that Augusta had insisted on giving him back in August, when he'd received his letter from Hogwarts. According to Harry's father, Augusta said that purchasing a brand new wand at Ollivander's was a _"complete waste of time and money"_. It gave Harry a great deal of happiness to see how Neville's eyes sparkled as he showed his new wand to Ron.

As the train drove off, the boys started a game of Gobstones, which were a Christmas present that Fred and George had given Ron. Ron was of course obsessed with winning and so every half an hour, he cheered his victory and yelled "again, again!", much like a five-year-old. Harry laughed at him and continued playing. He could play all day. Life was absolutely beautiful. Why? Because his father had given him the best present of all and he would use it almost every day if he could. Also, things with Sirius were good again. It was the best Christmas holidays Harry had ever had.

"That's really good, Nev," he said finally, once Neville had stopped talking about his new wand.

Neville sighed happily.

"So what else d'you get?" Ron asked him.

"The jumper from you [Harry gave Ron a look and Ron shrugged], a book from Harry [Ron gave Harry the same look], some Spellotape from Lily, Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans from Hermione, a box of chocolate frogs from Remus and a signed Quidditch jersey from Sirius."

"Awe sweet!" said Ron, at once.

"Wait, what about your grandmother?" said Harry, and he almost regretted it as soon as he did because Neville's face saddened instantly.

"A Remembrall," he said, gloomily.

"A what?!" exclaimed Harry and Ron together.

"It's this small ball with smoke that turns red when you've forgotten something. Gran said I'll probably be seeing red all year."

"Bloody hell," said Ron, but Harry quickly jumped to sympathy.

"That's okay," he said, quickly. "Hey, remember the new wand?"

"And the signed Jersey?" said Ron, happily.

Neville cheered up again.

"Yeah, they're great!" he said.

And the rest of the train ride proceeded in the same fashion—Harry and Ron trying to cheer Neville up whenever the subject of his intolerable grandmother came up. By the time they pulled up to Hogsmeade station, Neville was in a good mood again, which was all that mattered to Harry and Ron. They got off the train together and hauled their things up to Gryffindor tower where they dumped them by their beds and postponed unpacking until later. There was something they were very eager to do before they did anything else, and that was to go visit Hagrid.

He was of course extremely pleased to see them and made a large pot of tea and banana cake to treat them. They spent a good hour at Hagrid's house, talking about the holidays and laughing about Ron's obsession with chocolate frog cards. Hagrid was so pleased seeing them, which made Harry very happy that they'd come. It had been the best decision he'd made since he took Dumbledore's advice and welcomed Sirius home.

When classes resumed, Harry had to put aside the excitement of the holidays to focus on the heavy load that the teachers surprised him with. He and Ron were already struggling to balance homework with Quidditch practice, and had to work twice as hard to defend themselves when Neville so cleverly pointed this out over breakfast one morning at the end of February.

"But we _can't_ give up Quidditch!" said Ron. "We just…we just can't! I…tell him, Harry!"

"Ron's completely right, Nev," said Harry. "It's just not a possibility."

"No way!" agreed Ron.

"But it _is_ a possibility," said Neville. "And besides, if you flunk out of school, then it actually _won't_ be a possibility."

"You don't get it," said Harry, pushing his cereal bowl away. "Quidditch has always been the most important thing in my life. I can't give it up."

"Me neither," said Ron, nodding ferociously.

"Don't you want to become an auror?" said Neville to Harry.

Harry shrugged.

"W-well, yeah, but I also want to play Quidditch and I can't see why I can't do both."

"Yep!" said Ron.

Neville sighed.

"Well look, we have our final exams coming up in just four months, and—"

"Four months!" exclaimed Ron, frightening Neville slightly. "That's four whole months! We have _nothing_ to worry about, right Harry?"

Harry nodded.

"Hey Ron," said Neville, casually. "What is a doxy?"

"I dunno," said Ron, taking a bit of his toast, "A kind of quill?"

Harry barked out a laugh and reached for his cereal bowl again. Neville shook his head in frustration.

"Okay," he said, eventually. "I think I can work around my schedule to help one of you, but that's the thing. It'll only be one of you. I don't have enough time to help the other."

"Nev, relax!" said Harry. "We're not going to flunk out of Hogwarts in our first year. Are you kidding me? With my mother, that'd be suicidal."

Ron laughed.

"Still," said Neville. "You ought to hit the books soon."

"And we will!" promised Harry. "Come on, Ron. Wood wanted us to be out on the pitch by 9."

"Coming," said Ron, who gulped another piece of bread, washed it down with orange juice, and jumped up from the table. They waved their goodbyes to Neville and disappeared from the hall.

The next day, the first-year Gryffindors were surprised to see Snape standing at the front of the classroom when they arrived at Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Sit down," he declared, angrily.

The students found their seats and nervously got their books out.

"Professor Lupin is unfortunately unable to attend classes today," said Snape, turning his back on the students. "So you will have the pleasure of my company for the next hour."

Harry couldn't help but notice how absolutely ecstatic Malfoy was at this news. Hermione however, looked slightly nervous, though not as nervous as Neville, who was Snape's absolutely favourite victim. Harry tried to make himself as invisible as possible for the rest of the hour, and failed miserably at this.

"No, Ms. Granger, that is not the question that I asked," said Snape at one point.

"But—"

"Perhaps the Boy Who Conquered will be able to tell us!"

Harry looked up from his sheet nervously and found Snape glaring down at him. The others were also watching him intently.

"Tell us, Mr. Potter, what _are_ the 12 uses of Dragon Blood?"

Harry gulped nervously.

"But sir!" said Neville, suddenly. "Hermione's already told you!"

"Quiet," said Snape, coldly, his ferocious eyes still on Harry.

Harry looked sideways at Neville for help but he was too scared to say anything. Harry closed his eyes and pictured the page in the textbook right before him. He tried desperately to picture the entire page but it was all blurry. He opened his eyes and glanced up at the professor nervously.

"Um," he said in a rather shaky voice, "Well…I know three." Snape waited. "It's u-used as an oven c-cleaner, a spot remover, and a cure for some d-diseases."

"How very smart of you to know just _three_ of the _twelve_ important uses," said Snape, wickedly. "Five points from Gryffindor."

"FOR WHAT?!" Ron blurted out, and was sorry as soon as he did because Snape smiled and said "Another five points on Weasley's account."

The Gryffindors groaned collectively.

After class, Harry made up an excuse to Ron and Neville and hurried over to the hospital wing to find Remus and check on him. But he was stopped halfway there by a breathless Neville, who'd apparently run after him.

"Ron was yelling after you," he gasped. "You have a Quidditch practice now that you can't be late for."

"But—"

"Go on, I'll check on him," promised Neville, breathing heavily.

Harry stared at him.

"Y-you will?"

"Yeah, of course!" smiled Neville. "Go on, I'll tell you about it afterwards." Harry hesitated. "Go."

"Thanks a million, Nev!" exclaimed Harry, and he ran back in the other direction to catch up with Ron.

It turned out that Remus hadn't suffered too terribly from his last cycle, but that he'd gotten a fairly high fever and was on bed rest on Madame Pomfrey's orders. That was why he couldn't come to class. He also passed along his thanks to Harry, which made him feel slightly better. He'd been terribly worried about him. He didn't know if it was just him but the cycles seemed to be getting worse. He said this much to Neville after Ron went off to bed that night.

"I don't think it's anything to worry about," said Neville. "But we could write to your parents just in case and see what they think."

Harry frowned.

"Mum will go crazy if she finds out," he concluded. "It's better to tell Sirius. He'll know what to do."

"Alright," said Neville. "Write to him then."

So Harry bid Neville a goodnight and watched him climb up to the dormitory before he pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and dipped his quill in ink:

 _Dear Sirius,_

 _Hope you're doing well. School has been going good and Quidditch practice is really great. You'll come to the finishing match with dad, won't you?_

 _I've got to tell you though…Snape is really starting to scare me. The man hates my guts! I haven't even done anything to him. I suppose I have you and dad to thank for that, don't I? I'm only kidding though._

 _On another note, Moony's cycles seem to be getting worse and Neville agrees with me. He had to miss class today and guess who took his place? Snape! It was really awful. Maybe you could see if anything could be done to ease Moony's condition? It really sucks seeing him like this._

 _Write soon,_

 _Harry_

When Professor McGonagall handed back the students' tests the next day and Ron whimpered nervously, Harry knew that Neville had been right. Of course, Harry didn't really have that much to worry about himself. He'd received a perfect score on his. But a nervous-looking Ron approached Neville later that afternoon and begged him for help. And so it was that starting then, the two of them were in the common room most evenings, studying. This meant that Harry had free time to do whatever he wanted. He decided to make use of his father's invisibility cloak and explore the castle grounds a bit. He would spy on various students and sneak up behind ghosts. This didn't help Ron's concentration because he really wanted to tag along.

Harry decided it'd been a while since he'd visited Dobby in the kitchens, and so he did just that.

"Harry Potter!" squeaked the elf when he saw him. "How long it's been! Dobby is most pleased that Harry Potter has decided to visit him!"

"Hello Dobby," said Harry, pleasantly.

"But why has Harry Potter decided to visit Dobby?" said the elf. "Oh no! Has Harry Potter missed his dinner again? Would he like for Dobby to make him a meal?"

"Oh no, Dobby that's really alright—"

But before he knew it, he was being pushed through the kitchens by several elves and forced into a chair in the corner, where Dobby brought him a large pumpkin pie and a spoon.

"Dobby baked it himself, sir," squeaked the elf. Harry gave him a small smile and decided to try a bit.

"Wow, this is really good!" he said, and he meant it. Dobby made the most spectacular food Harry had ever had.

"Harry Potter is most kind, sir!" squeaked the elf.

When Harry had had enough to eat, he beckoned for Dobby to join him. He was really curious about the elf, and luckily Dobby was very enthusiastic about sharing.

"So how did you end up working at Hogwarts?" Harry asked him.

"Dobby used to be a house elf, sir. But he was released at the end of the Wizarding War sir, and Dobby found kind Mr. Dumbledore who offered him good work at Hogwarts. So Dobby has been working here ever since."

"You were a house elf?"

"To the Malfoy Family, sir."

"What?!" gasped Harry. "The Malfoys, are you sure?"

"Positive, sir!" squeaked the elf. "The Malfoys were horrible to Dobby but Dobby had to serve his masters."

"But…well how did you escape?"

"Dobby didn't escape, sir. Dobby was released."

"But why?"

"Because the Malfoys had to give up a lot when the ministry wanted to send them to Azkaban, sir. And Dobby was also released because the Malfoys were desperate to show the ministry that they were well-intentioned people, sir. Oh Harry Potter, sir, Dobby will always be most grateful to him."

"W-why?" said Harry.

"Because Harry Potter got rid of the Dark Lord, sir! And that is why Dobby was released. If Harry Potter didn't do it, the Dark Lord would still be here and the Malfoys would still be rich and Dobby would still probably be their…their…"

And he burst into tears. Harry stared at him, not knowing what to do. He awkwardly patted him on the shoulder but was too lost for words.

"Slave!" the elf wailed finally. Harry gently took his hand and squeezed it in his own.

"Dobby," he said, politely. The elf looked up at him, wiping his tears away. "You are the best cook I have ever met."

The elf positively beamed at him.

When Harry left the kitchens ten minutes later, he realised that it was way past his curfew and threw on the cloak at once. He loved wearing it. He loved having the ability to freely wander around without any fear of getting caught. If only Snape knew what he was up to…he'd probably have a fit.

Harry was very pleased on the following Tuesday when he met up with Remus in his office for their weekly lunch, and he saw that he was doing quite well. Remus was very reassuring that it'd only just been a sickness—sort of like a flu—so Harry was able to relax.

"Well, class with Snape was _awful_ ," he told him.

"I understand," said Remus. "But as I'm sure you know, I had no control over who took over my classes for the day. Dumbledore just told me that he had it covered."

"Yeah, I guessed that much," said Harry. "Neville said you looked awful though."

"It's alright Harry," said Remus, tiredly. "Haven't you ever had the flu?"

"Yeah, but…"

"But you're not the werewolf here," said Remus, quietly, nodding. "Yes, I can see where you're coming from."

Harry nodded.

"So everything is good with Sirius then?" Remus asked, suddenly.

Harry nodded again.

"I'm sure you know how very proud I am of you," began Remus, "For taking Dumbledore's advice."

"Yeah," said Harry. "I hate being mad at him. Padfoot is my best friend."

"Yes," smiled Remus. "It's not good when best friends fight." He paused. "So has he talked to you more about the subject?"

"Not really," said Harry, shrugging. "We don't talk about Malfoy at all. We've just sort of dropped it."

Remus nodded.

"What about Neville? How is all of that going?"

"Oh, it's all okay now," said Harry. "We talked and decided that he'll be more honest."

"Good, good," said Remus. "Your friendship really reminds me of mine with your father, you know."

Harry smiled. He loved hearing about his father's childhood with Remus and Sirius. He often found himself wishing that he'd been alive at the same time and was their best friend during their days at Hogwarts. It sounds like it would've been wicked fun. But he had every intention to have the same amount of fun with Ron and Neville. Perhaps next year, they'd have plenty more opportunity to have fun, when they wouldn't be the new youngsters anymore.

Over the next couple of weeks, Professor McGonagall surprised the students a great deal with several more tests. Homework was really starting to pile up. But Wood was also keeping him and Ron really busy with Quidditch, so they found themselves staying up late almost every single night, which was really a bother. Near the end of April, Harry was returning from a practice late one evening (Ron had skipped it to study with Neville in the common room) when he found Hedwig standing just outside one of the stained glass windows, tapping gently against it.

"Hedwig!" exclaimed Harry, approaching her. He opened up the window and petted her gently. "Have you got something for me?"

She lifted her leg to reveal the letter attached. Harry untied it and petted her again.

"Thanks, girl," he said, smiling.

She soared off into the sky and he closed the window. He'd been waiting for Sirius' reply for months. His mother had warned him that Sirius would be really busy and she'd been right. Back in the common room, Harry found Neville and Ron snoozing on the couches, though it was only just 10 o'clock. Reluctant to wake them, he moved to one of the corner tables and sat by a candle to read his letter:

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Before I say anything else, I have one small concern. 'Dear Sirius'? Sirius?! Since when did you stop calling me Padfoot? You know, I think you must be coming down with something. Perhaps a visit to Madame Pomfrey?_

 _Thanks for telling me about Moony. I'll see if I can find something that could maybe help his condition, though James and I have been trying that since we were kids even._

 _As for Snape, I could give you a couple of tips for how to deal with him—a few little pranks, you know? Though, I doubt your mother would approve. And besides, it might not be a good idea for you to try them out in your first year. Let's wait a couple of years. They're really good, I promise._

 _I can't write much more because we're really busy over here, preparing for our next match, as I'm sure your mother's told you. And of course I'll come to your final match, I wouldn't miss it! You know, I'm thinking that I might actually retire from the team at the end of the season so I could spend more time with you lot. I miss you loads and I hate being away all the time. But it's just a thought._

 _Glad you are doing well and write again soon._

 _Padfoot_

Harry smiled down at the letter. His favourites were always from Sirius. Feeling suddenly cheerful, he went to sit on the couch and put his feet up on the table. And as he did so, he found himself wondering whether Neville had the same sort of relationship with James. And if Sirius retired from the team, he'd always be around as well. Though, Harry wondered if retiring would make Sirius sad. He loved his work a lot. But then again, he also had a job at Hogsmeade which was a lot closer to Hogwarts. Still, working with a professional Quidditch team had to be the coolest job ever. How could he ever think about retiring?

Suddenly, Ron gave a loud snort and Neville jumped up, waking loudly.

"Rise and shine!" said Harry, brightly.

Ron began rubbing his eyes and sat up.

"What happened?" he said, glancing at the letter in Harry's hand.

Neville's eyes found it quickly as well.

"Nothing much," said Harry, shrugging. When he noticed them staring at his letter, he folded it up and placed it in his pocket. "Oh that's nothing—just a letter from Sirius."

"So, you two are okay now?" said Ron, slowly. Neville grabbed his open book on the table and put it on his lap again.

"Yeah, why wouldn't we be?" said Harry, smiling widely.

"Oh come on!" said Ron. "I noticed how angry you were at him before the holidays and then he came over to our house to talk to you. Hey, you never did tell us what that was about."

"Right," said Harry, shrugging. He looked around the common room. "Are you lot hungry? We could go down to the kitchens and ask Dobby to maybe make us some sandwiches."

"Hey, don't switch the subject so quickly!" said Ron.

Neville looked up from his book. Harry watched the two of them nervously.

"Go on, mate, tell us what's been going on," said Ron. "After all, we were worried about you. Don't we deserve to know?"

"Yeah, what happened to all that honesty you wanted?" said Neville, smirking at Harry.

Harry sighed and began to play with his cloak.

"So?" said Ron, who was watching Harry eagerly.

Neville seemed to have completely lost interest in the book on his lap and listened carefully. Harry looked down at his hands again and sighed. It was better to tell them now than later. After all, they were his friends. They wouldn't judge him. And the sooner they knew, the better really.

"Draco Malfoy is related to Sirius," he said, very quickly, before he could stop himself.

"Get out of here," said Ron.

"It's not a joke," said Harry, looking up at him finally. When Ron realised that Harry was not smiling, he frowned.

"But..."

"Wait, how can this be?" interjected Neville.

Harry shrugged slightly and then took another deep breath.

"Sirius wrote to me a while back," he began. "You know how he has all these cousins, right? He comes from a fairly large family." Neville nodded. "Well...he said that he has this one cousin who he really hates. He said he hasn't talked to her in years. And her name today is...Narcissa Malfoy."

"Is that...Draco's sister?" said Ron.

"No, he has no brothers or sisters," said Neville.

"How do _you_ know?" said Ron.

Neville raised his eyebrows at him.

"Hermione told me."

"Oh," said Ron. "I didn't know you two talk."

"She helps me with homework from time to time," said Neville.

" _We_ could help you with homework too," Ron muttered. "You don't have to go to the know-it-all."

"You?" laughed Neville, "Help with homework?"

"She's his mother," said Harry, who was now a little annoyed. "And anyway, that's not the point!"

Ron and Neville muttered their apologies and turned their full attention to Harry, who was far from done talking.

"The point is that Sirius never told me he was related to the Malfoys in this way," he went on. "I always knew that his family were Death Eaters back in the war, and that he was the only one who was not. But I didn't know that they were related to the _Malfoys_."

"It kind of makes sense, now that I think about it," said Neville suddenly. "They were all death eaters."

"Except for Sirius," added Harry.

"Yeah, except for him," said Neville. "I can't believe I never thought that this was a possibility."

"Yeah, you and me both," said Harry, gloomily.

They were quiet for the next minute, as each boy went over this information in his head.

"So," said Ron, finally. "Sirius Black, _your godfather_ , is Draco Malfoy's what?"

"Sirius reckons it's second cousin," said Harry.

Ron nodded.

"Wow," said Neville. "And what do _you_ think about all this?"

Harry's eyebrows shot up.

"I was pissed when I found out!" he said. "Obviously!"

"Yeah, don't you remember?" Ron said to Neville. "He wouldn't tell us what was wrong for weeks."

Harry shrugged.

"I wasn't ready for anyone to know. I mean...well just imagine it, Ron. _Me_ related to _Draco Malfoy_!"

"Yeah," said Ron, who looked suddenly miserable. "Sorry mate. It must be terrible."

"Well no," said Neville. "Not related, not really."

"I'm sure Malfoy is taking this news worse than you are," Ron said to Harry, an evil smirk on his face.

Harry smiled.

"I don't think he knows and Sirius agrees."

"He doesn't know?" said Neville.

"No," said Ron, turning to look at him. "And you can't tell Hermione, alright? You tell Hermione and the little Slytherin will know in an instant."

"Boy, you really hate her, don't you?" said Harry, smirking.

"No," said Ron. "I don't _hate_ her. She's just really annoying. She's lost us more house points this year than I can even care to count anymore!"

Harry shook his head, and then grew serious again.

"Please though," he said, looking right at Neville. "Don't tell anyone."

"Don't worry, I won't," said Neville. "You guys don't think I can keep a secret?"

"No," said Harry and Ron together.

"Ouch," said Neville.

And the three boys broke into laughter. Interrupting their laughter however was the sound of a scraping chair in the corner. They froze at once as they watched Hermione gather her books and climb up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. Harry stared after her, his mouth wide open.

"How long has she been sitting there?" said Neville.

Harry did not answer. Ron voiced his exact thoughts.

"Do you think that maybe she heard?"

They watched the door to the girls' dormitory slam shut and Harry turned round to look at the other two.

"Oh, yes," said Neville. "She heard."

* * *

 _Draco_

* * *

There was no doubt in that things had been very different as of late. For the first time since Draco had come to Hogwarts, he felt like Hermione was his best friend again. For once, Slytherin and Gryffindor were not intervening in their friendship. That and the memory of all their fun times was what made Draco decide to ride the train back to Hogwarts with Hermione.

"But—" said Blaise when he told him on the station platform at the end of the holiday break.

"No buts," said Draco, firmly. "I am riding the train back with Hermione. Okay?"

"Okay, Malfoy," said Crabbe and Goyle together. "Whatever you want."

"Thanks," said Draco. He gave Blaise another glance before he boarded the train without another word to him.

He found an empty compartment fairly quickly and took the seat next to the window, all the while watching Hermione in the distance as she hugged both of her parents. Finally, they waved her off and she began to slowly approach the train with her things. The compartment door suddenly slid open and Draco jumped up. Blaise was standing with Crabbe and Goyle peering up behind him.

"Hey, what are you guys doing here?" said Draco.

"Just wanted to check on you," said Blaise, with a sort of shrug. "So you're sure you won't sit with us?"

"I'm sure," said Draco.

Blaise nodded.

"I'll see you at Hogwarts then," said Draco, urging him to go on before Hermione got there.

"Right," said Blaise, who did not even make an attempt to move from his spot.

Draco nodded.

"Okay then. See you there."

"Yeah," said Blaise, still rooted to the spot.

"You'd better go find a seat, Blaise," Draco prodded.

"We already did," Blaise informed him. "Friend of mine is saving us a compartment."

"Friend?"

"Yeah, Avery, you know?"

"Ah," said Draco, who didn't really know Avery that well to connect him with a face.

"Well, here I am!" said Hermione in a singsong voice once she'd reached the compartment. She stopped dead at the sight of Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle standing there with Draco. Her smile vanished quickly. "Oh, h-hello."

"Hello," said Blaise, ignoring Draco's nudge. "I'm Blaise Zabini."

"Hermione Granger."

"Yeah, that I already know," said Blaise, in an odd, sarcastic manner.

"Right," said Hermione, slowly. She glanced at Draco who kept his head bowed and then at the other two who were eyeing her suspiciously. "A-are you boys going to sit with us?"

Blaise glanced at the other two and then screwed on a smile.

"We have other plans, thanks," he said, and jarringly shutting the compartment door behind him.

There was silence. Draco didn't know what to say. He watched Hermione carefully as she stared at the door where Blaise had disappeared. The train whistled. Draco sighed loudly, causing Hermione to finally turn her head to him. He gave her an apologetic smile.

"So," he said.

"So," she said.

Draco bit his lip.

"You get any good gifts?"

The train whistled again.

"Sure," said Hermione, finally sitting down. "Mum and dad got me some new sweaters and Hagrid sent over a box of pastries."

"Hagrid?" said Draco, frowning.

"Oh he's my friend," said Hermione. The train began to move.

"Ah," said Draco, who hardly remembered anything about the man other than his freakish height.

"I also really loved the book, thanks," Hermione added. She pulled out _The Princess Bride_ and placed it on her lap, smiling down at it.

"You're welcome," said Draco.

"What did you get?" said Hermione.

Draco hesitated.

"I love Sherlock," he started, and Hermione smiled pleasantly, "And some food and a scarf and a Sneakerscope and…"

"A Sneakerscope?" said Hermione. "Oh wow that's amazing! Who got it for you?"

"Blaise," said Draco.

"Ah," said Hermione. "And what else?"

"What?"

"You said 'and a Sneakerscope and…'" Hermione reminded him.

Draco tried to pass it off as nothing, but Hermione did not miss the sparkles that had suddenly found their way to his eyes. She laughed as Draco tried to cover up the blushing of his cheeks.

"Oh come on, tell me what else you got!" she said finally.

He sighed and looked out the window again.

"I got a Nimbus 2001," he whispered.

"A what?" said Hermione.

Draco rounded on her.

"It's only like the coolest broom ever and it's not even been launched yet!" he exclaimed. He'd wanted to tell someone ever since Christmas—had been practically dying to spill it.

"But how did you get it? And from whom?"

"Sev sent it," explained Draco. "He got it from a friend of a friend."

"Wow, that was certainly nice of him."

"That was _awesome_ of him!"

Hermione laughed and Draco suddenly went on a rant about the strengths of this new broom. The rant carried him all throughout the day until Hermione stopped him at around supper and begged him to talk about something else. They played a little bit of cards later towards the evening and then talked about some muggle films that Hermione had gone to see over the holidays. When the train finally pulled in to Hogsmeade Station, they were both laughing and practically in tears. It had been the most fun they had had in a long time. But all came to an end as soon as they stepped off the train.

"Oy, Draco!" Blaise called out.

Hermione offered him a smile once he reached them but he ignored her and said to Draco, "Come on, let's go unpack our stuff."

Draco waved goodbye to Hermione and then followed his friends into the castle and towards the dungeons.

"So, what did you all do?" he asked his friends as they climbed through the portrait hole to their common room.

"We played a lot of games," said Crabbe.

"And ate lots of food," said Goyle.

"And talked about the latest news on Gryffindors," added Blaise.

"Oh?" said Draco, who was also very eager to hear more.

Blaise looked at him.

"It's too much to retell. Besides, it's not that important."

And he turned around and climbed up to his dormitory to unpack his things. Draco sighed. He knew it. He knew he would pay for wanting to ride the train back with Hermione instead of with Blaise and the others. But it's not like he'd committed a crime. Feeling on edge, he unpacked his things as well and then joined his friends in the common room for late night games. Blaise was still being very annoying and distant even hours after they'd come back to Hogwarts. Draco thought for a minute, and then knew just the thing to do. Careful so that Crabbe and Goyle didn't hear him, Draco leaned closer to Blaise, whose eyes snapped up at once.

"What?" he said to a grinning Draco.

"Snape got me a Nimbus 2001 for Christmas."

"WHAT?!"

"Shh!"

They looked round at Crabbe and Goyle who were fighting over the last chocolate frog in their pile of junk. Blaise's grin broadened instantly and he gave Draco a smile of gratitude.

Though the common room was fairly crowded that night, the students soon began to head off to bed so it cleared up very quickly. Blaise also retired fairly soon, and Crabbe and Goyle followed. Only Draco was left, sitting on the couch by the fireplace and building his perfect house of cards. Everyone else left as well, and he was all alone in the great big quiet of the common room.

As he continued building his house, he thought a lot about the holidays and how unexpected they had turned out to be. His mother had actually had a decent conversation with him, for the first time since he could remember. It was an amazing, yet completely unfamiliar feeling. Suddenly, a shadow in the corner moved, making Draco jump in his seat and thus destroying his house of cards.

"Sorry," said Marcus Flint, who had moved from his shadowed spot in the corner and was walking towards him now.

"I didn't know anyone else was still here," said Draco, quickly, eager to defend his fright.

"Yeah, I know," said Marcus, taking a seat on the couch next to his. Draco stared at him. Would he try to duel him again? Or perhaps threaten him for getting him into trouble with Snape? Or worse…

"What're you reading?" said Marcus, his eyes on the book lying next to Draco. Draco stared at him and then looked down at his book.

"Um, it's a muggle book that was recommended to me," he answered, finally.

"By _her?_ " said Marcus.

Draco glared at him.

"Yes," he said, firmly.

Marcus hesitated, then nodded.

"Yeah, so listen, I feel bad about…well, you know. And um," he looked around the empty common room. He was obviously very uncomfortable because his fingers were twisting madly and he was absentmindedly kicking his foot against the coffee table over and over again. "Anyway, look I'm sorry, okay?"

Draco stared at him.

"And you can be friends with whoever you want," Marcus continued. "I don't really care. So long as you don't fight with fellow Slytherins in public and all that, we'll have no problem."

"Okay…" said Draco, once he finally found his voice.

"Aaand I won't bother you," said Marcus. "And," he swallowed, looking as though the next bit was almost painful to say, "I would really like it if we could be…f-friends."

At this, Draco cracked a smile, and this time, _Marcus_ stared at _him._

"What?"

"Snape really scared you, didn't he?" said Draco.

Marcus smirked.

"You've no idea."

"No, I actually do," said Draco. He moved the book aside and put his feet on the couch, crossing his arms. "I've known him since I was a baby."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he's an old family friend."

"Didn't know that," said Marcus. "That's cool. So like, he never puts you in trouble, does he?"

"Yeah, I suppose so," said Draco, shrugging. "Me and Sev…that's a really complicated story."

"Yeah, I'll bet," said Marcus. "So…how were your holidays?"

Draco shifted in his seat.

"Fine. Yours?"

"Good, good." There was a pause. "Get any good stuff?"

Draco bit his lip. Should he tell…? What the heck.

"Y-yeah, Snape got me a new broom."

"Oh cool," said Marcus. "What model? Not a Sweepstakes, is it?"

Draco smirked.

"A…"

He paused. Marcus raised his eyebrows, waiting.

"A Nimbus 2001."

His mouth fell open. Literally.

"How is that possible?" he breathed.

"He knows people," said Draco, with a slight shrug. Though inside, he was hopping with joy.

"That's…" said Marcus, his face brightening up considerably. "THAT'S AMAZING!"

"Yeah, it's my first broom too," said Draco.

"Well it won't be of any use to you if you're not on the team," said Marcus, suddenly. "You'd better try out for me next year. I mean it. Seriously."

Draco laughed.

"Maybe I will."

"Maybe you don't taunt me and say you'll do it," said Marcus. "I need a new seeker. Nott is just a joke."

"Alright, alright," said Draco. "I'll do it."

"Good. Wow, a Nimbus 2001! Is it any good?"

Draco paused.

"I haven't really tried it out yet, to be honest."

"Haven't tried it out yet?!" exclaimed Marcus. "Gimme, I will! Where is it?"

Draco hesitated.

"In my closet…back at home…"

"IN YOUR…oh my God, how can you stash such a good thing in your closet to collect dust?!"

Draco shrugged and laughed again as Marcus went completely pale.

So this was what hanging out with Slytherins felt like. Draco liked it. They were straightforward and direct with you, and taught you not to be so sensitive. But they also had your back whenever you needed them to. Blaise was a perfect example of that, and was a huge part of the reason why Draco was really starting to feel at home here.

For the next couple of weeks, classes went on really well. For some reason, Draco was not really bothered by Slughorn anymore. He didn't even mind sitting next to Potter in Transfiguration. He was in a better mood than he'd been all year, which might or might not have had something to do with the brand new broom waiting for him at home.

Defense Against the Dark Arts became even more enjoyable as well. Lupin was teaching them about gnomes and doxies, which Draco found to be quite fascinating. Hermione however was completely bored with all this information that she'd studied three times already. Draco made a point of giving her "I told you so" looks in class whenever he could. This really didn't please Hermione, which made Draco laugh even more.

When Draco finally saw Snape in the corridor one morning, he marched up to him with a big smile on his face.

"Good morning, Draco," said Snape, coolly.

Draco smirked.

"Hey Sev."

Snape glared down at him as students passed by them.

"I told you not to call me that here."

"Right, sorry." Draco looked around and then leaned forwards and lowered his voice. "Thanks for the broom."

Snape frowned at him and then looked up ahead at the wall.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Of course you do," said Draco, smiling more widely now. "I really love it. Thanks very much."

"I don't know what you're going on about," said Snape again.

This time, Draco frowned.

"Wait…but you sent me—"

"You'd better get on to class," said Snape, quickly, and he turned around and walked away from Draco.

Just as Draco was about to turn around however, Snape glanced at him and winked.

Later that day, Draco received quite a shock when he walked into Defense Against the Dark Arts and found Snape standing at the front of the classroom. He went to sit next to Hermione, who looked quite shocked herself, and got his books out. The Gryffindors were all bothering Snape with where Lupin was and he glared at them angrily.

"Professor Lupin is unfortunately unable to attend classes today," said Snape, turning his back on the students. "So you will have the pleasure of my company for the next hour."

Draco was absolutely ecstatic at this news. It would be the very first time that he had Snape as a teacher, even if it meant that it was only for just an hour. Hermione however, looked slightly nervous beside him. Draco couldn't understand why. It was Snape, after all! He was only the best bloody teacher in the whole school. But as the class went on, Draco began to understand why Hermione was afraid of Snape. He was absolutely horrible to her! It was very difficult to watch.

"No, Ms. Granger, that is not the question that I asked," he said, after Hermione had recited the purposes of Dragon Blood upon his request.

"But—" said Weasley, when Snape suddenly interrupted him.

"Perhaps the Boy Who Conquered will be able to tell us!"

Potter looked up at Snape nervously and found that he was glaring down at him. In spite of himself, Draco smirked. Everyone else in the class was also watching Potter intently.

"Tell us, Mr. Potter, what _are_ the 12 uses of Dragon Blood?"

There was silence.

"But sir!" said Longbottom, suddenly. "Hermione's told you!"

"Quiet," said Snape, coldly, his ferocious eyes still on Potter.

Draco watched Potter curiously. He of course knew the answer to the question, but wanted to see if Potter knew.

"Um," he said in a shaky voice, "Well…I know three." Snape waited. "It's u-used as an oven c-cleaner, a spot remover, and a cure for some d-diseases."

"How very smart of you to know three of the twelve important uses," said Snape, wickedly. "Five points from Gryffindor."

Draco's grin broadened. Beside him, Hermione gulped nervously.

"FOR WHAT?!" Weasley cried out, but Snape only smiled at him, and said "Another five points on Weasley's account."

The Gryffindors groaned collectively.

As March slowly moved in to April, the homework load for the first years increased slightly. This meant that Draco and Hermione had more study sessions at the library and thus more time to spend together. They quizzed each other on various materials in preparation for their final exams in June. And when they were ready to take breaks, they played Wizard's Chess or Exploding Snap. Hermione was absolutely terrible at both and was exceedingly frustrated by her constant losses. Draco was overjoyed.

On the last week of April, Professor McGonagall decided to surprise the first years with a little test, for which none of them were prepared. Hermione of course turned instantly pale and began questioning McGonagall about how much this assessment would affect her overall performance in the class. But Hermione was not the only one who left the classroom afterwards looking extremely pale. The first year Gryffindors and Slytherins broke at a ferocious rant once they were out of the classroom, each of them complaining about how unfair and brutal McGonagall had been that morning. And Hermione did not look to be doing any better later that night when she met with Draco in the library to revise for a Defense Against the Dark Arts quiz.

"…so doxies are kind of like pests then, right? They infest places and you need to use Doxycide to get rid of them…? Hermione? Oy, earth to Hermione! Hey, are you alright?"

"What?"

Hermione blinked at him and then shook her head quickly and bent over her textbook again.

"What's up with you?" said Draco, smirking. "You're not still going on about that test, are you? Forget about it! It's just one—I'm sure you did well anyway."

"It's not that," said Hermione, quickly.

"Well then what?" said Draco, frowning.

Hermione looked up at him nervously and then shook her head again.

"Never mind," she said.

"Okay," said Draco, slowly. "So I'm right then?"

"About what?"

Draco stared at her.

"Doxies…"

"Oh," said Hermione, jumping up slightly. "Yes, yes, that's correct. They have shiny beetle-like wings and a double row of sharp venomous teeth. That's what makes them so dangerous and therefore pest-like."

"Right," said Draco, copying down her every word. "Okay, next. Um…" he flipped through the pages of _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ and frowned down at the book. "Okay, what about the difference between pixies and…imps?"

"What?"

Draco looked up from his book again and saw that Hermione was staring at him blankly.

"Are you okay?" he repeated.

"Yes," said Hermione. "What did you say? Pixies and Imps?" she pulled aside her copy of _The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 1_ and grabbed Draco's Defense Against the Dark Arts book and flipped through the pages.

"Since when do you need to check something in the book?" said Draco, his eyes narrowed.

Hermione sighed and looked up at him.

"Imps and Pixies are very alike in their slapstick sense of humour and height of six to eight inches. They like to push and trip the unwary. The main difference between the two however is that Imps hatch fully formed."

And without waiting for Draco to respond, Hermione turned back to her book and put her head in her hands so that she could read to herself. But Draco was very stubborn. He pushed her heavy book aside with a loud thump and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Please tell me what's wrong," he said in a whisper, because Madame Pince had just glared at him for making noise.

Hermione looked around nervously but seemed to have made up her mind because she pulled the rest of her books aside too, and turned her body completely around so that she was facing Draco. He listened.

"I overheard Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley talking last night," she began. Draco made a face but she put up a hand so that he'd let her finish. "They were talking about something that Harry had found out before the holiday break."

"Okay," said Draco slowly, not knowing where she was going with this or why it was so important to her. "And what did he find out?"

"He…" said Hermione, biting her lip. "He said that he was mad at his godfather. He was mad because he found out something that his godfather had been keeping from him all his childhood."

"Wait," said Draco suddenly. "You mean to tell me that you've been acting weird because of something Potter's _godfather_ said to him? Why do you care?"

"Because it has to do with _you,_ Draco!" Hermione blurted out.

At this, Draco started.

"W-what?"

Hermione took a deep breath.

"Harry's godfather is a man called Sirius Black," said Hermione. Draco gave her a questioning look. "And he has a very large family—a fair number of cousins. And one of his cousins is a woman he hasn't talked to in years."

"Okay," said Draco, slowly.

"Her name is Narcissa Malfoy, Draco," said Hermione.

* * *

The common room seemed to swim before his eyes with all sorts of blurred colours as Draco climbed in through the portrait hole and stood, looking around. He didn't remember exactly how he'd gotten there from the library. His feet seemed to drag him up the stairs to his dormitory and voices were shouting in his head.

 _"Why, hello there, Malfoy," said the Sorting Hat. "It's been too long since I've seen a Malfoy. How's your father doing, I wonder?"_

 _"Just get on with it," grunted Draco._

 _"Oh but we didn't get a chance to chat!" exclaimed the Hat. "You know, your mother was a kind one but her sister was truly historic to this school. She did some things I haven't seen in years. I wonder if you've inherited the Black gene and will be amazing us with your talents as well."_

The Black gene, thought Draco. How could he have missed it? He had been so upset about Hermione getting sorted into Gryffindor that he'd completely neglected everything else the Sorting Hat had told him. Draco kicked his shoes off and drew the hangings around his bed, slumping down and facing the ceiling. _Black_. How could his mother have been a _Black_? It could not be true. It just could not. But according to Hermione, Potter had been very energetic about the subject. He seemed extremely upset about this small connection that he had to Draco.

So Sirius Black being his mother's cousin meant that he was Draco's relative as well…an uncle or a distant cousin or something…But his mother had never mentioned his very existence. He had been completely unknown to Draco all his life. So how then could this be? And it was very evident that Hermione had been extremely disturbed by this information and nervous about telling Draco, so it was definitely true. But how _could_ it be true? It couldn't!

Draco turned around on his pillow. What ever had happened that made Sirius a completely neglected part of his family? And since he was clearly aware of this connection he had to Draco's family, why hadn't he ever reached out to him? Wasn't he supposed to be all right and proper, like the perfect little Harry Potter? Draco sighed. Sleep surely wasn't going to find him tonight. He sat up and fetched a bit of parchment and a quill. Looking around the room again to make sure everyone was asleep, he began to write:

 _Dear mother,_

 _All those years you spent complaining about the Potters. But you never mentioned that Harry Potter's godfather, a man called Sirius Black, is your own cousin. How could you keep this family secret from me? How can you have been a Black before you were a Malfoy? And don't you think I deserved to know?!_

 _Draco_

He glared down at the parchment in his hand. Tears were sprinkling down on it. Furious, he crumpled it up quickly and fetched a fresh piece.

 _Dear mother,_

 _Hope you are alright. Everything is fine here. I am only writing to tell you that today I found out that I have_ _a_ (Draco paused. Second cousin, was it?) _second_ _cousin called Sirius Black. I was just wondering how this is possible._

 _Draco_

Satisfied, he folded it up and placed it under the ink bottle on his bedside table, noting to himself that he'd visit the owlry first thing tomorrow morning and borrow Horus to deliver the crucial letter.

Feeling wide awake, Draco fell back on his pillow and stared up at the ceiling again, wondering now whether there was even the slightest chance that Sev was aware of this small detail of the Black family history.

* * *

 **Which perspective (and plot) is so far your favourite, Harry's or Draco's? And also tell me why.**


	11. Year 1: Exams and Goodbyes

**A/N: I got a lot of writing done this weekend. Here's one chapter for you all and the next will be updated later tomorrow. It is going to be a summer chapter, just before the start of year 2. Also, I do not proofread these chapters usually. If anyone would like to offer to be a beta, please do tell. It'd make updates a lot quicker. Thanks**

 **Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks**

* * *

CHAPTER 11: YEAR 1—EXAMS AND GOODBYES

* * *

 _Harry_

* * *

There was only one place in the entire castle that Hermione could have disappeared to. And yet, when Harry quietly tiptoed into the library and peered around the book shelves, she was still nowhere to be found. Just when he was about to give up, he'd finally spotted her, sitting on the floor behind one of the aisles, large books spread out in front of her.

"Hey," said Harry, taking a seat on the floor next to her. Hermione looked startled and gave him a questioning look. "Can we talk?"

Hermione waited. Harry cut right to the chase.

"Okay look, I know that you overheard us the other night and I was just wondering—"

"—if I told Draco?" said Hermione, casually. Harry nodded. She looked down at her book again. "Yes, I have."

"Well, what did you do that for?!" said Harry, angrily. "Look, just because Ron said you're really annoying—and I have to admit, he's right—you didn't have to go and do that on purpose!"

"I didn't do it because of him, alright?" said Hermione, shooting him a dirty look.

"Yeah right," said Harry.

Hermione glared at him.

"I did it because it was the right thing to do."

"Was not!"

"Was so!"

Madame Pince peered around one of the shelves and glared at them both. Harry sighed and lowered his voice again.

"Look, what I told them is between me and Sirius."

"True, but it also concerns Draco."

"It—" Harry glanced around again and lowered his voice even more. "Okay, yes you're right, in a way. But it's really not any of your business!"

"Look, what's done is done, okay?" said Hermione. "Now will you please go away? I have to study."

Harry glared at her and then jumped to his feet and stalked out of the library. She was so completely, _unbelievably_ stubborn! Perhaps Remus would know what to do.

"I'm sorry, Harry," he said on their next Tuesday lunch. "But if Hermione has chosen to tell Draco, there is nothing more that you can do about it."

"But—"

"If Sirius wants to pursue this connection he has with the boy, it will be his decision—"

"But—"

"—and _you_ can't tell him not to."

Harry sighed heavily. He hated admitting it, but Remus was absolutely right. It was very possible that sometime soon, Sirius would reach out to Draco. And there was nothing Harry could do to stop it. They might become best pals. Draco might steal his godfather from him. But Harry had no right to interfere because _they_ were actual blood relatives, whereas he and Sirius were not. Now he knew how Neville felt, having to share James with him.

"Well?" said Ron when Harry reported back to him that night in the common room.

This time, Harry was sure to check the common room thoroughly. Hermione was always somehow lurking in the shadows. But it was very clear that she was not there tonight. He turned back to Ron.

"Remus said that what's done is done."

"Bloody hell," said Ron, frustrated. "She just _had_ to ruin everything, didn't she?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed, slumping on the couch and sighing.

"So," said Ron, after a moment's silence. "All that stuff about your godfather and Malfoy…" Harry looked up at him. "Well, is that what Dumbledore wanted to talk to you about then?"

Harry nodded.

"What'd he say?"

"He said that I should forgive Sirius ," said Harry. His eyes snapped up to Ron again as he remembered another crucial detail of that meeting. Ron looked puzzled. "Dumbledore also talked to me about Voldemort."

"About You Know Who?!" said Ron. "What about him?!"

Harry leaned forwards.

"He was telling me about how I survived that night—about how me and my parents were able to fight him off. But he didn't really say how it happened. He said I was too young," Ron rolled his eyes, "and that he would one day tell me. And get this: he said that I would one day perhaps 'desperately need this information'."

"What?" said Ron.

"Yeah," said Harry, nodding again.

"Well, what does that mean?"

"I really don't know," said Harry, frowning.

Though, that was not exactly the truth. He himself had danced around many theories on the subject and had ultimately concluded that it must mean that Voldemort could somehow come back someday. Though, even as he sat in front of the fireplace now, brooding over this information, he doubted it was possible. After all, how could he return? Harry and his parents had killed him that night. He was done. Finished. For good. So why then did Harry have a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach now and was even sweating slightly?

* * *

The month of May seemed to zoom on by and sooner than later, it was the day of the final Quidditch match—Gryffindors versus Ravenclaws. Harry and Ron were too psyched to eat breakfast and enjoyed the whirl of "You're gonna do great!"'s that they heard from fellow Gryffindors.

"Yeah, good luck!" Neville repeated, over and over again.

Harry could not stop smiling. It was going to be a really good day. Though, as soon as he and Ron reached the changing rooms and heard the people out on the stands cheering, a panic suddenly ensued. For one, Harry's heart was beating rapidly in his chest. His father and Sirius would be out on the stands watching him fly, no doubt comparing whether he was as good as James had been at his age. What if he wasn't? Would they be disappointed in him? Ron seemed to read his mind because he placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled.

"Let's go show them how it's done," he said, echoing Harry's words from their first match.

Harry smiled nervously and followed his teammates out onto the pitch. They were met with a roar of applause and cheers. Some of their audience even began to chant, "Go, go, Gryffindors! Go, go, Gryffindors!" Harry couldn't help but smile. It was really incredible. He couldn't see his father or Sirius anywhere, so that helped quite a bit. Wood took turns patting each of his team members on the back before he soared off into the air and motioned for them to follow him. Harry closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and mounted his broom, following Ron.

As soon as he was in the air, he forgot about everything else. He thought of nothing but the golden snitch that was soon flying around him, making him twist in mad circles just to keep an eye on it. He let the crowd's cheers guide him as to what was going on with the rest of the match and who was scoring points. So far, it looked like Ravenclaw was in the lead, which made Harry very nervous. Nonetheless, he kept his eyes on the snitch and the snitch only. It was very energetic today. About twenty minutes into the match, Gryffindor began to catch up with Ravenclaw, which gave Harry quite a bit of hope. He glimpsed Ron a couple of times throughout the match, and he looked quite ecstatic with all the excitement. Finally, at long last, Harry soared up close to the small golden ball. He stretched out his arm, willed his Comet to fly just a bit faster, and twirled, practically attacking the ball in the air.

It happened very quickly. As his feet landed on the ground with a light thud, he watched an enormous crowd race its way towards him, positively deafening him with its cheers. But he expelled it from his mind for he could now see two people running across the field towards him. As soon as they'd reached him, they picked him up on their shoulders and began to run around the field, shouting "POTTER! POTTER! POTTER!". The Gryffindor players trotted after them, as did several other students from the stands. Harry could not stop smiling as James and Sirius held him in the air and continued to run around madly.

The excitement of the Quidditch match carried on through the rest of the week. Harry and Ron had become increasingly popular when they won Gryffindor the Quidditch Cup. Now all that was left was to procure the House Cup and they were golden. However, they had to put all the excitement aside when Neville slapped two thick books on the table in front of them one night in the common room.

"Exams start next week!" he exclaimed. "You ought to study, guys."

Harry and Ron groaned in unison but each grabbed a book and carelessly flipped through some pages.

"History of Magic is a stupid subject," said Ron, frustratingly. Harry smirked as he flipped through _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ and yawned theatrically.

"Tell that to the Headmaster, why don't you?" said Neville.

"Oy, you don't have to be such a nerd!" said Seamus suddenly.

Ron smirked.

"M-me?" said Neville.

"Yeah, you!" said Seamus.

"I'm not a nerd," said Neville, slowly.

"You _are_ always studying," Dean pointed out.

"What else does he do?" Seamus asked him.

"Not much," said Dean.

"Oy, stop it, you two!" said Harry. "Neville does plenty other things, thanks."

Ron nodded vigorously.

"Oh yeah?" said Dean, crossing his arms now. "Like what?"

Harry and Ron blinked.

"Well," said Harry slowly.

"You know," said Ron.

But neither of them could think of anything to defend Neville with.

Seamus' and Dean's smirks were widening, and Harry knew that if he didn't come up with something fast, they'd win.

"Neville is a kind and caring friend!" cried out a voice from somewhere in the back.

The boys turned round just in time to see Hermione marching up to them and stopping at Neville's side.

"He has been helping me all year," Hermione declared, "Because some people in this castle find it funny that I am muggle-born."

"Oy!" said Ron, suddenly. Hermione met his eyes. "You don't have to come running to Neville's defense. After all, _we're_ his friends—not you."

"I am _also_ his friend, Ronald!" exclaimed Hermione.

"Right!" laughed Ron.

"Tell him, Neville!" Hermione demanded.

"Well," said Neville, slowly, though it went completely unnoticed by Ron and Hermione, who both had their arms crossed now.

"You ought to be a bit nicer to people, Hermione, or you'll be hated by every one of your housemates!"

"I am not hated by anyone!"

"Oh yes you are! You lost us more house points this year than anyone else!"

Hermione looked around the silent room and then found Ron again. Her eyes were now full of tears.

"Well fine!" she sobbed. "I suppose I'll go and ask the Headmaster to give me another sorting!"

And with that, she ran out of the common room, weeping. Everyone's eyes were now on Ron, who stared, not knowing what to say.

"You know you have to apologise to her, don't you, Ron?" said Neville afterwards, when the others had gone to bed and the three of them were sitting by the fireplace again.

Ron gave a slight shrug but looked worried in spite of himself.

The next day, Harry, Ron, and Neville were leaving the Charms classroom to go to lunch when someone down the corridor shouted, "Oy, Weaslebee!"

Ron looked round and found none other than Draco Malfoy storming at him. He took a step backwards, but Harry remained rooted to the spot. He hadn't spoken to or acknowledged Draco in what must have been months.

"You going to apologise to Hermione anytime soon?" Malfoy demanded.

Ron stared at him.

"Well?" said Malfoy, his eyes lingering on Harry for a split second before they were glaring at Ron again.

"I suppose?" said Ron, shrugging innocently.

"Well you'd better," said Malfoy. "Because you'll answer to _me_ if you don't, got it, Weaslebee?!"

"Oooo," said Fred and George together, who had stopped in the middle of the corridor to observe the scene with the other surrounding students. "Ronny, you've got a rival!"

"Shut up!" Ron snapped at them but they began to laugh and therefore didn't hear him.

Ron turned to look at Malfoy angrily.

"You—" he began, but Harry grabbed his arm to stop him.

Malfoy's eyes now landed on him.

"Something you want to say, Potter?" he demanded.

Harry simply shook his head. Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

"No taunts? No stupid remarks? Nothing?"

"No," answered Harry.

It took all his willpower not to say something foul to Malfoy. But he knew that it was not a good idea to get into any fights now. It was better to just let him be. But Malfoy did not seem to agree because he suddenly smirked.

"Black must have taught you good manners," he said, in a low voice, before turning round and stomping off.

Harry stared after him until Ron started to pull him from the hall. They walked in silence past the Great Hall, neither of them feeling hungry at all. When they finally reached Gryffindor tower, Ron turned to look at Harry.

"You don't think I should apologise, do you, Harry?" he said, in an almost desperate voice.

Harry shrugged.

"I dunno. I suppose it couldn't hurt."

"But do I _have_ to?" whined Ron.

Harry smiled slightly and then gave a jerk of the head that meant yes. Grunting, Ron gave the portrait of the Fat Lady the password and climbed on inside. Harry however, decided to go down to the library. Something gave him the feeling that Hermione would be there. And he was quite right. She was sitting in one of the corner tables by herself, head bent over a very large book.

"Hey," said Harry, taking a seat beside her and moving her stuff to another side of the table.

Hermione looked very startled.

"What?" said Harry, raising his eyebrows.

"You just let yourself take a seat and move my things without asking, don't you?" she accused. "You have absolutely _no_ manners!"

"Hey, that's not fair," said Harry, lifting his hand so that she wouldn't interrupt. "You were nosing in on my mail a few months ago, if I remember correctly. _And_ you have been listening in on all of our conversations this whole year. Talk about having no manners."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something but then closed it again. Harry glanced at the books she was studying and made a mental note that he should probably start studying himself.

"Did you hear about what happened just now?" he asked, conversationally. Hermione looked up at him with a questioning look. "About you know… your little pal Malfoy storming at Ron."

"He did what?!" said Hermione.

"You didn't know?" said Harry. Hermione shook her head impatiently. "He told him that he'd better apologise to you or he'll be answering to him."

For a split second—just a split one—Harry thought he'd seen a satisfied smile cross Hermione's lips, but it was gone just as quickly and she busied herself with her books again.

"Yeah, so?" she said.

Harry paused.

"How did you two become friends, anyway?"

"We met summer before school started," said Hermione, lazily. "We live very close to each other."

"I see."

"Now, if you don't mind, I _really_ need to concentrate," said Hermione, bitterly.

Harry lifted one of her open books and examined it. She looked like she wanted to protest but decided against it and busied herself with her own book.

"Emeric the Evil is the guy with the jellyfish hat, right?" he asked.

"No," said Hermione, at once. "That was Uric the Oddball. Haven't you opened up _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ at all this year?"

Harry shot her a nasty look.

"I'm trying to be nice here, but you're making it really difficult."

Hermione looked up at him with an extremely puzzled expression, but before she could respond, they were interrupted by a loud cough. Draco Malfoy had arrived at the library as well, and was standing just behind them, his arms crossed, his expression furious.

"Nice of you to join us, Potter," he said, coldly.

Harry rolled his eyes so that only Hermione could see, and jumped up from the table. He left the library without a word to Malfoy, who obviously hated his guts. But it wasn't like Harry wanted to become best friends with him, so he didn't lose any sleep over it.

Ron never did end up apologising to Hermione, but he certainly treated her more nicely. Neville did not hold a grudge against him either so all was well. The boys revised for their exams together and the following week, they wrote them. Harry was somewhat surprised to find out that he'd passed with flying colours. He reminded himself that he should never procrastinate so much in the future, or passing those O. that his mother talked about so much would prove to be extremely difficult.

Sooner than he'd hoped, the Leaving Feast was upon them. Harry and the others were all packed and ready to leave Hogwarts next day. And though Harry loved spending time with his parents and sort of missed his own bedroom, he really didn't want to leave. He attended the Leaving Feast with less than his usual high spirits, as did Ron, who absolutely loved it at Hogwarts.

"Oy Harry," said Ron, when they finally sat down to eat. "Have you told Neville about what Dumbledore told you about—ouch! Why did you kick me?!"

"Later!" Harry hissed.

Neville gave him a questioning look but Harry shook his head. He would of course fill Neville in on everything, but it was not safe to do it here, with all these nosy Gryffindors listening in. Speaking of nosy Gryffindors, Hermione was sitting not too far from her and anything Harry revealed in front of her would no doubt make its way to Malfoy's ears. That was for sure the last thing he wanted to happen.

Halfway into the feast, Professor Dumbledore rose from his Headmaster's chair to make a speech. The hall quieted down instantly and he looked down upon the students with a big smile.

"Another year gone!" he announced. "And it was truly a wonderful year!" The hall applauded. "To our seventh years, we wish the best of luck in future endeavours. To our future first years, we shall provide an excellent welcome come September. And to all the rest, a very happy and safe summer!" The staff applauded to the students. "And now, I believe that the House Cup needs awarding." The hall became silent at once. Everyone was extremely eager to hear the tally of the points. Dumbledore's smile never faltered. "In fourth place, Hufflepuff with 175 points…in third place, Ravenclaw with 205 points…coming in second place with 380 points is Slytherin, and…"

But before Dumbledore could finish, an uproar erupted from the Gryffindor table as everyone jumped from their seats and cheered loudly.

"405 points for Gryffindor!" Dumbledore tried to shout over them but it was useless because they were already shouting their victory for the entire Great Hall to hear.

And so it was with sorrow spirits that Harry made his way over to Hogsmeade station with Ron, Neville and the others next day. As they walked, Harry bid his farewell to his passing friends. Dean and Seamus made him promise to write that summer, though Harry doubted he would. He only really cared about Ron and Neville. When they finally reached the station, Remus caught up with them and helped them load their trunks onto the train. Ron and Neville said goodbye to him and boarded the train while Harry stayed behind to chat.

"You'll come by this summer, won't you?" he said.

"Yes, I hope to," said Remus, smiling.

Nevertheless, Harry gave him a big hug and promised to write. He then spotted Hagrid a little ways down the station and ran up to hug him as well, also promising to write.

"It's been really great watchin' you go through yer first year here, Harry," said Hagrid, sobbingly. "They grow up so darn fast!"

"It's okay, Hagrid," said Harry, whose glasses were now being crushed by Hagrid's enormous hug. "I'll be back next year and I'll write a lot this summer, I promise!"

"And I will too!" said Hagrid. "Ye didn't think I forgot yer birthday is comin' up, did ye?"

Harry beamed up at him.

"Okay, go on, go on," said Hagrid, sniffling.

Harry waved goodbye to him and then ran to catch the train which was already starting to leave. He poked his head out the window and waved again to Hagrid and to Remus, who was now standing next to him. When they were already in the distance and very hard for Harry to see, he went about searching for Ron's and Neville's compartment. When he finally found it, he sat across from Ron and smiled at the window, watching the fields move.

"It was a good year, wasn't it?" said Ron.

"Yeah," said Harry, happily. "And something tells me next year will be even better."

* * *

 _Draco_

* * *

Severus Snape had a talent for making himself invisible whenever someone desperately needed to find him. It made Draco very agitated and he wondered where the man could be disappearing off to. He needed to speak with him _urgently_ but he was simply nowhere to be found. Just perfect.

Draco's mood therefore was definitely not the brightest for the first couple of days of May, and Blaise obviously noticed.

"What's up with you?" he asked over breakfast one day, two weeks into the month.

Draco shook his head and took a gulp of pumpkin juice while trying hard not to concentrate on the fact that Snape's chair up at the staff table was unoccupied _again_.

"Hey Malfoy, are you okay?" said Crabbe, sweetly.

"Fine," Draco grumbled.

But he was far from fine. In fact, he was as far as one could possibly get. He hadn't slept normally in weeks. And that letter that he'd sent to his mother remained unanswered. Typical. No one around here ever cared to tell him the truth or to explain things to him. Suddenly feeling not up to food, Draco excused himself from the Slytherin table and exited the hall. He meant to go to the Trophy Room—which was his place of refuge every now and then—when he suddenly bumped into a tall figure he'd not seen approaching him.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir," he said, awkwardly, bowing his head. "I'm sorry."

"Not to worry, Draco," said Dumbledore, kindly. "How are you this morning?"

"Fine," said Draco, looking up at the Headmaster and finally noticing that he was not alone.

Standing next to him, Snape looked down at Draco curiously with those jet black eyes of his.

"H-hey," Draco said to him.

"Hello Draco," said Snape, coolly.

"Ah forgive me, I'm intruding," said Dumbledore, suddenly.

"Actually—"

"No, no, Severus, you two need to talk. I'll just go and see Professor McGonagall about that gargoyle on the fifth floor. Good day to you both!"

Draco stared after Dumbledore who looked like he wanted to skip down the hall. He greeted several students passing by quite cheerfully and disappeared into the Great Hall very quickly. Draco turned back to Snape who was still eyeing him with curiosity.

"Something the matter, Draco? You look very odd."

"Can we talk?" said Draco, motioning to an empty classroom.

Snape hesitated, and then followed him inside. He shut the door behind him and watched as Draco took a few more steps and then took a seat at one of the empty tables and put his head in his hands.

"Talk to me," said Snape, suddenly appearing at his side.

Draco looked up at him. Snape looked extremely worried. Draco took a deep breath.

"I know about Sirius Black," he blurted out.

Snape's expression changed to one of extreme confusion.

"What about him?" he said, a minute later.

Draco rolled his eyes.

"I _know_ , Sev," he said. "I _know_ , okay?"

"And what is it that you _know_ exactly?"

Draco frowned.

"I know that Sirius Black is…is my mother's cousin."

Snape's expression did not change at all, as Draco had thoroughly predicted. _Of course_ he'd known about it all along. This was not news to him.

"How can that be?" he asked, shocking Draco all the while.

"W-what do you mean?"

"I mean, how is this possible? And wherever did you hear such a thing?"

"Awe come on!" cried Draco, suddenly jumping from the table and taking a few steps away from Snape. "Don't act like you didn't know! You've known about it all along, haven't you?!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Snape, coolly.

"Right!" laughed Draco. "This is just as news to you as my new Nimbus 2001 was!"

He couldn't quite read Snape's expression now. It was somewhere between sadness, confusion, and satisfaction.

"I promise you that this is the first I've heard of this," he said, finally.

Draco stared at him, trying to decide whether he should believe him.

"Well," he said, frowning again, "Well okay fine then. Explain this: how did you recognise the name as soon as I mentioned it?"

"Because I knew Sirius Black when I was younger," said Snape, coolly. "We went to school together."

"You…you did?"

"Yes."

Snape pulled up a chair and sat down at the desk that Draco had occupied moments before. Draco remained standing where he was.

"Sirius Black was one of my biggest rivals in my days at Hogwarts," began Snape. "He and Potter's father were two of the most arrogant students to prowl these halls in a century—mark my words."

Draco smirked for a split second, and then grew serious again.

"They made my days here miserable," Snape went on. "I absolutely hated them my whole life. So naturally, I have not forgotten their names to this day."

"But," said Draco, taking a few steps towards him now, "How can it be then that he is related to my mother?"

"If your information is correct," said Snape, casually, "Then I assume Black was disinherited by his family when he was younger and therefore remained disconnected to them even in his adult life."

"So mother would be a part of his past then," said Draco, comprehendingly.

"As would he be a part of hers," Snape concluded. "Yes, I can see that happening."

Draco sighed and took the seat across from him.

"I don't understand why mother never told me about him then," said Draco.

"That is a conversation you ought to have with your mother," said Snape, wisely.

"Yeah," muttered Draco.

 _If only she'd respond_ , he thought.

When the Quidditch final arrived and the entire school ran out to cheer on the Gryffindors or the Ravenclaws, Draco and Hermione went up to the library to get a bit of studying done, seeing as how their final exams were quickly approaching. It was a fairly productive afternoon, for they got through most of their study material and didn't even need to break. They were extremely focused on doing well and had even created a little competition between the two of them, as to who would score the top marks in the grade.

"It'll _obviously_ be me," said Draco, smartly.

"Oh we'll just see about that, won't we?" said Hermione, smirking.

"Yes, we will!" said Draco.

Things couldn't have been better for them. They'd spent most of the year fighting or worrying about their friendship, but were going to end it on a very good note. This made Draco very hopeful that they would have another fantastic summer together. Well, at least that was a small piece of good news about what awaited him when he returned. Draco sighed. He really didn't look forward to facing his mother, especially now that it had been a whole month and she'd still failed to answer his last, most crucial letter.

A few days later, Draco cleared it up with Hermione so that he could spend a full day with his Slytherin friends. After all, he still wished to keep them around. They were good company. And so he spent the day playing cards with Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle. Marcus also said "Hi" to him every time he passed him in the common room. He had chosen to keep the news of his Nimbus 2001 a secret for the time being, which was a wise choice because Draco doubted Snape wanted all this attention. He was almost regretting the fact that he'd told Marcus _who_ had got him that gift. Oh well.

The day was certainly fun and definitely not regrettable. Though Crabbe and Goyle were pretty stupid, they had their way of making the games fun. And Blaise was extremely competitive in nature, which always made Draco very excited to beat him. By the end of the day, the boys were laughing uncontrollably and feasting on little snacks that they had snuck into the common room from the Great Hall earlier that day.

"Okay," said Blaise, after the laughter had subsided. "I think it's best to call it a night—I'm tired."

"Yeah, me too!" said Crabbe, yawning loudly.

Goyle packed up the cards and followed Crabbe upstairs to the dormitories.

"You coming, Draco?" said Blaise, who'd reached the top of the stairs and turned round to check if Draco was following.

"Yeah," said Draco, slowly. "Yeah, I'll be up in a minute."

"Suit yourself."

Once Blaise had disappeared, Draco ran out of the common room and made his way down the dungeons to say goodnight to Hermione. He wanted her to know that he really hadn't been avoiding her that day. He wanted to know that she wasn't mad at him again. But as he reached Gryffindor Tower however, he bumped into a running, weeping figure in the darkness and fell backwards. So did the figure. Rubbing his head (which he'd hit hard against the floor), Draco stumbled to his feet and squinted in the darkness.

"H-Hermione?" he said, warily.

She blinked at him in the darkness, tears sparkling in her eyes.

"Hey!" said Draco, softly, placing both his hands on her shoulders. "What's happened? Are you okay?"

Hermione shook her head and then pulled him into a tight hug.

"Tell me what's wrong," he said.

After a few moments, her tears subsided and she hiccupped. Draco pulled her aside and urged her to tell him what had happened. And so she told him. And by the time she was finished, a boiling ball of anger had made its way into the pit of Draco's stomach. Hermione had to stop him from lunging up the stairs to the Gryffindor common room, where he would surely hex Ron and get a detention.

"It's _not_ worth it!" said Hermione.

Draco finally stopped struggling and then sighed.

"But he made you cry," he said.

"That's alright," said Hermione, shrugging. "I feel much better now that I've talked to you."

Sighing, Draco pulled her into another hug again.

"I promise you—I'll deal with it."

He could feel her shaking her head in protest but he ignored her. There was no way he was going to leave this…absolutely…no…way.

The next day, Draco sat at the breakfast table, glaring at Ron Weasley who was laughing over at the Gryffindor table with Potter. He could not _believe_ that Weasley had said such a hateful thing to his Hermione, and yet he _could_ believe it. After all, it was _Weasley_ and _Potter._ He'd never expected any less of them. They were just a bunch of arrogant school bullies who had no care in the world besides Quidditch and looking good in front of their peers. Gits.

Draco attended his classes as usual that day and answered "Fine" every time Blaise asked him what was wrong. But the second Potions ended, just before lunch, he ran out of the classroom and raced down the school halls towards the Charms classroom, where he knew the Gryffindors were. He caught them just in time, walking away at the end of the hall.

"Oy, Weaslebee!" Draco yelled loudly so that everyone could hear.

The redheaded boy turned around as Draco began to approach him angrily. Potter looked alarmed as well. All the other students in the hall watched eagerly.

"You going to apologise to Hermione anytime soon?" Draco demanded, but Weasley simply stared at him. Git.

"Well?" said Draco, impatiently.

His eyes lingered on Potter for a split second before they glared at Weasley again. Even though he wanted to focus on the task at hand—for Hermione's sake—he found himself unable to stop thinking about his newfound connection to Potter through Sirius Black. Potter must have thought himself to be so important, knowing such a huge family secret that Draco did not, and Draco wanted nothing better than to rub it in his face that he _did_ know just as much as Potter did.

"I suppose?" said Weasley finally.

"Well you'd better," said Draco, angrily. "Because you'll answer to _me_ if you don't, got it, Weaslebee?!"

Behind the two, a couple of students began to woo at Draco's words and some even laughed.

"Ronny, you've got a rival!" laughed two older Weasleys.

Their brother turned around to say something to them, and as he did, Draco and Potter locked eyes. Then, Weasley turned to look at Draco and even reached for his wand.

"You—" he began, but Potter suddenly grabbed his arm to stop him.

Draco now narrowed his eyes at him.

"Something you want to say, Potter?" he demanded.

He was not afraid of either of them. And he'd really meant what he'd said. If they wanted to bother Hermione, they'd have to answer to _him_ before any teachers got involved. That's for sure. But Potter simply shook his head, causing Draco to raise an eyebrow.

"No taunts? No stupid remarks? Nothing?"

"No," answered Potter.

Draco narrowed his eyes at him again. What _was_ going on inside that little head of his? He had not bothered or even spoken to Draco in months. Was he finally truly bored with the idea of taunting him? Or was he afraid of getting into trouble? The thought was most amusing to Draco, but he managed to stifle a grin. He needed to be taken seriously here.

And then, it hit him. Potter knew that Draco had found out about Sirius Black, didn't he? And he really didn't like the idea of sharing this relative with him. Oh no, he most certainly did not. Now, Draco let the smirk slide across his face, puzzling Potter a great deal. He lowered his voice.

"Black must have taught you good manners," he said, coolly, before turning round and stomping off.

That would show him.

He tried to come up with a good excuse for Blaise as to why he'd run out of Potions so quickly, but soon word got around that he'd threatened Weasley and Blaise was very proud of him.

"You're finally learning how annoying little Gryffindors can be!" he said, patting him on the back.

"Not all of them," Draco reminded him.

Blaise's smile faded a little and he nodded.

"Come on, let's go get lunch."

"Nah, I'm not hungry," lied Draco. "You go on."

The truth was, he really wanted to go and find Hermione—to tell her that he'd taken care of it and that she needn't worry. He ran up to the library the first chance he got and searched for her in between the aisles until he finally spotted her sitting in a little table over in the corner. Though, as Draco approached, he realised that she was not alone. Sitting next to her, reading one of _her_ textbooks, was _Harry bloody Potter_. Scowling, Draco, hid behind one of the book aisles and listened as Potter said,

"Emeric the Evil is the guy with the jellyfish hat, right?"

"No," said Hermione, at once. "That was Uric the Oddball. Haven't you opened up _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ at all this year?"

Go Hermione. Draco was feeling very proud of her. She didn't need him to defend her after all. She was mighty good at doing that herself. Potter shot her a nasty look.

"I'm trying to be nice here, but you're making it really difficult."

Oh great. He'd just fed on her good conscious. She looked up at him apologetically, and before she could make the mistake of actually uttering an apology, Draco interrupted them with his loud and clear cough. They both turned to face him, standing there with his arms crossed.

"Nice of you to join us, Potter," he said, coldly.

But Potter did not retaliate. Instead, he stood up and walked away without a single word. It was very odd of him. Had he completely lost interest in taunting Draco then?

Draco took the seat Potter had occupied a few seconds before and smiled brightly at Hermione.

"You good?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, smiling back at him.

"Good," said Draco, grabbing the book Potter had touched and scanning it briefly.

"So it _was_ Uric the Oddball then, wasn't it? The guy with the jellyfish hat, I mean," he said.

Hermione chuckled and took the book from him.

" _Uric the Oddball is known to have slept in a room containing no fewer than fifty pet Augureys_ ," she read out loud, " _During one particularly wet winter, Uric became convinced by the moaning of his Augureys that he had died and was now a ghost. His subsequent attempts to walk through the walls of his house resulted in what his biographer Radolphus Pittiman describes as a "concussion of ten days' duration."_

"Wicked," said Draco, nodding along.

"Yes, he was the weirdest wizard of his time," Hermione agreed, placing the book back on the table.

"A medieval wizard, right?"

"That is correct."

Draco nodded. He really liked studying with Hermione. She had a way of keeping him concentrated on the actual material. Otherwise, he'd be spending every free second thinking about Sirius Black and how he was probably the "Blaise's-grandfather" of the family—not necessarily a muggle himself, but definitely a banned member of the family. And in spite of himself, Draco was very curious to find out exactly what Black had done to receive this sort of treatment.

Studying with Hermione had indeed proved to be very smart. Draco happened to ace each and every one of his final exams, passing with top marks. Unfortunately, so had Hermione. So much for their little competition. They'd ended up tying in every single subject. How funny.

Soon, it was time for the Leaving Feast. Draco thought that he'd never wanted to leave a place less. Despite all the drama that had happened that year, he'd loved his time at Hogwarts and really, really, _really_ didn't want to come back home to his drunken father and ignorant mother. At least Hermione would be close by. There was the silver lining at last.

At the Leaving Feast, Professor Dumbledore so blatantly announced that Gryffindor had won the House Cup. The Slytherins groaned, though some of them were pleased to have come in second place.

"Did you hear that they also won the Quidditch Cup?" said Millicent Bullstrode, angrily. "The Gryffindors are _always_ winning everything!"

"Do not worry," said Marcus Flint. "I feel sure that we will win that cup next year."

"Why?" said Pansy Parkinson.

"Oh, just a hunch," said Marcus, and for a short second, he met Draco's eyes and smirked.

"Ugh, I really don't want to go home," said Pansy, suddenly.

"Yeah, me too," muttered Draco.

"Awe, lighten up!" said Blaise, punching his arm playfully. Draco smiled at him and then looked down at his food again. "We'll be back before you even know it. I'm telling you. This summer is going to pass by. I know it."

Across from him, Crabbe and Goyle enthusiastically nodded their agreement. Draco sighed and finished his meal. He knew he ought to—it'd be the last good meal he'd have in two whole months. Although, Hermione always made a point of bringing him food whenever they met up in the meadow. She was truly the best friend he'd ever had.

The next morning, Draco reluctantly brought his things down from his dormitory and exited the common room together with his friends. Just before joining the rest of his classmates on the journey to Hogsmeade station however, he caught up with Snape who was lurking about the Great Hall.

"Well, I'll be going now," said Draco.

"I'll see you here in two months," said Snape, reassuringly.

"Yeah," said Draco, quietly. "See you, Sev."

He didn't bother hugging him. With Draco and Snape, it was not that kind of relationship. Draco had always known it and had eventually accepted it. Though these days, his only hugs were from Hermione. But Slytherin had taught him not to be so sensitive and he found that he really didn't need to be hugged at all. He could live without it. He already had.

When he finally arrived at Hogsmeade Station, he spotted Hermione saying goodbye to that giant called Hagrid. Draco waited for her not too far until she finished saying her goodbye and finally noticed him.

"Hey!" she said, smiling brightly. "Are we riding the train back together?"

Draco paused. He hadn't expected that question, to be honest.

"Um," he said. "Well actually…"

"That's fine," said Hermione. "Really, it's okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, absolutely! We'll see each other a lot of the summer and you won't see your other friends until September."

"Yeah, exactly," agreed Draco. "Hey, thanks for understanding."

"Of course," said Hermione, sweetly. "Have a good train ride."

Draco felt immensely guilty but also really grateful that she'd made the nice gesture. He kissed her once on the cheek and then ran off to join his friends who were already in the process of searching for a compartment.

"Not riding with Granger?" said Blaise, smirking.

Draco punched him playfully on the shoulder and then took a seat in the compartment they'd just found. Their train ride back home was no different than the one at Christmastime. They spent it playing games and feasting on all the snacks they could get. Draco of course had no money to buy snacks with, but Blaise took care of that problem immediately. In return, Draco promised to let him try out his "little secret" when he'd bring it to school next year. Blaise looked absolutely ecstatic, though Crabbe and Goyle scratched their heads as to what the little secret could possibly be.

The train ride was very short and extremely uneventful. But when Draco finally got off the train at King's Cross and bid farewell to his friends, he was surprised to find that his mother was not waiting at the end of the station, but rather standing much closer to the train.

"Hey," he said to her when he finally approached her.

She stood there, not knowing what to say to him. Draco stared at her. Had she even gotten the letter at all? Did she even care to write? But Narcissa Malfoy was acting very strange that day. Her expression changed several times and finally she gave him a small, but warm smile. Draco was completely shocked.

"We need to talk," his mother told him. She took his bags and led the way through the magical portal.

"What about?" Draco asked her.

"Not here," his mother told him. "Come on."

"Where to?"

They passed by a few muggles and got into a muggle car.

"We are going to the Leaky Cauldron," said Narcissa, "To talk about your letter."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading and please review!**


	12. Just Like Old Times

**A/N: I'm very sorry, I know I promised to update this Monday night but there were some circumstances that prevented me from finishing the chapter, so here it is now: the summer chapter just after Year 1. Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer : Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks**

* * *

CHAPTER 12: JUST LIKE OLD TIMES

* * *

 _Harry_

* * *

"Alright, I want you to cut each potato right down the middle like this, and then place the sour cream nicely inside, and then sprinkle some of this parsley on top. Got it?"

"Yes, mum," said Harry.

"And Neville dear," said Lily, handing him a bowl full of batter. "Why don't you mix it up for now? I have to get started on this cake."

"Okay," said Neville, taking the bowl from her and grabbing a large spoon.

He positioned himself next to Harry at the kitchen counter and set to work.

It was the end of July. Both Harry's and Neville's birthdays were fast approaching, and Lily had enlisted both of their help in preparing the feast for the nice family dinner they were going to have. Each year, Lily insisted on having a joint celebration for the two boys, and they didn't mind. It was better to have one big party than two small ones.

Harry was especially excited about this year because he'd invited the whole Weasley family and could hardly wait to see Ron again. It'd been a whole month of just exchanging letters. Though nothing was new with his friend (besides his height, which he made a point of bragging about), Harry still missed him a great deal. At least he hadn't been bored to death this summer, like he'd been every single summer of his childhood. Being an only child was not easy.

Back when Harry and Neville had just come home from Hogwarts, James had had a long chat with Augusta Longbottom over the telephone, finally coming to the agreement that Neville would be spending the summer at their house. Harry was overjoyed. Neville would be staying with him in his room and they would have so much fun together. However, he quickly got over it when he realised that all Neville wanted to do really was read or help out around the house, so as not to overstay his welcome.

"Nonsense!" Harry repeated to him over and over again. "You're not going to overstay your welcome so just stop worrying about it, alright?"

But Neville was very stubborn in that aspect and insisted on helping Lily to set the table every breakfast, lunch and dinner. He even offered to do the dishes each night, and each night Lily reminded him that that problem could be easily solved with just a simple flick of her wand. So after a few weeks, Neville relaxed a bit and accepted that he was just another family member and not a house guest.

Harry was also extremely excited because Sirius was coming home tomorrow—for good. He'd finally written to Harry at the beginning of July that he'd made up his mind and was retiring from the team. He assured him that he would be quite alright with that decision and would enjoy being back at Hogsmeade and close to home. Harry felt sure now that his next year at Hogwarts would be really, really good.

Remus had floo'd in just that morning and was helping James with some ministry paperwork in the sitting room. Lily was fussing around the kitchen and telling Harry and Neville what else to do and how to do it. Finally, at about a quarter to 5, Lily took off her apron and announced, "I need a shower. You boys can go out and play some Quidditch or something."

"Kay!" said Harry, happily.

"Oh, that's fine I really don't want—"

But Harry never let Neville finished. He grabbed his arm and led him out into the fresh summer air.

"We've been stuck inside all day and I just want to enjoy the summer heat a little bit," he explained.

Neville nodded.

Together, they walked along the freshly mowed grass of the backyard and listened to the nice melodies that the birds were singing up in the trees. Neville told Harry about what James had said regarding some suddenly famous wizard that Lily was now obsessed with. He mentioned that James had said, "She is practically in love with him."

"Do you think it's anything to worry about?" Neville asked Harry now.

Harry laughed.

"Nah, mum and dad are crazy about each other—it's really nothing."

Neville sighed in relief. Harry raised his eyebrows as he kicked some grass.

"Were you really thinking it was a problem?" he asked.

"Well, your dad made it seem like he was worried," said Neville.

Harry frowned, but did not give it another thought for Neville's next question threw everything else out of his mind.

"So how do you think he'd come back then, if we're saying that it's possible?"

"But _are_ we really saying that?" said Harry. "That it's possible, I mean."

"Well," said Neville, thoughtfully. "Given what Dumbledore told you, about desperately needing that information sometime in the future, yeah I'd say he was hinting that it _is_ possible."

"Well then I don't know," said Harry, shrugging.

"Aren't you worried about it at all?"

"Of course I'm worried!"

"Well then how come you haven't told your parents yet?"

Harry avoided Neville's eyes and busied himself with some weeds that were peeking in through the garden fence.

"Harry!" Neville sang.

"What?" said Harry, casually.

"You haven't told them yet, have you?"

"No, but so what? I bet it's nothing to worry about."

He could feel Neville's narrowed gaze on him, but apparently he decided to drop the subject altogether because he now moved the conversation over to Ron and what it would be like to meet his entire family tomorrow.

"They're really nice," Harry told him as they went to bed that night. "You know Fred and George of course. And Ron's sister Ginny will be coming to Hogwarts this year. She's…" Harry paused, recollecting how shy Ginny had been last Christmas when they'd met, "She's something."

"Does she have those 'crazy eyes' that Fred and George talked about?" said Neville.

Harry laughed.

"Nah, she's alright. That's just the twins being…well, the twins."

"Good," said Neville, sighing of relief again. "I didn't want there to be another person that I have to start avoiding in the common room."

Harry frowned.

"Who are you avoiding?"

"Percy Weasley."

"PERCY?!" gasped Harry. "How come?"

"He keeps looking at me strangely…like I'm the next one…" said Neville, warily.

"The next what?" said Harry, who was almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Prefect," said Neville, with a little bit of disgust in his voice.

Harry laughed.

The following day was truly unforgettable. Lily had ordered Harry and Neville out of the house so that she could prepare everything for the party. Remus wasn't feeling too well, what with his cycle lurking around the corner, so he chose to stay behind and help her. Sirius had ended up arriving early that morning, so he and James took Harry and Neville out to some field somewhere so they could play Quidditch, godfather-godson against godfather-godson. Of course Harry and Sirius won in the end, but they secretly knew it was only because Neville was not a Quidditch player, and although James was good, he was not _that_ good.

At 6 o'clock, Lily sent her message to James, telling him that it was alright to return now. The four flew back to the house in Godric's Hollow, and were greeted with the loud cheers of many guests who yelled "HAPPY BIRTHDAYS!" at Harry and Neville the second they walked in through the door.

"Harry!" yelled Ron, and Harry ran to hug him. "Happy birthday, mate! Here, this one's for you!"

"Not now, boys!" exclaimed Lily, taking the wrapped present from Ron before Harry could. "We'll do the presents later. Harry, why don't you go introduce everybody so no one is left out. You too, Neville dear."

"Come on," Harry said to Neville.

Ron chose to follow closely behind them as they slowly made their way around the sitting room, muttering "Hello, how are you?"'s and introducing various witches and wizards to each other. Not many had showed up—only a couple of Harry's parents' closest friends, the Weasleys, and Hagrid of course.

When it was finally time to sit down for the big birthday dinner, James enlarged the table and conjured up extra chairs for the guests to sit. They toasted to and drank for Harry and Neville, who were now officially on their last pre-teen year. The grownups then discussed the latest the ministry while Harry and Neville opened up the load of gifts and thanked their respective gifters.

"Well, listen it's been really nice seeing you lot!" said a witch who seemed to be close friends with Lily, as she hugged her goodbye and grabbed some floo powder.

"And you!" said Lily. "Please do visit again!"

"Oh I will," promised the witch.

The others soon began to leave as well, each bidding Harry and Neville a farewell. By 10 o'clock, Harry and the others had moved into the living room and started a few rounds of Gobstones and Exploding Snap. Lily and James continued to entertain the Weasleys and Remus and Sirius.

"Here, I'll take it," said Remus, gently reaching to take the plates from Lily.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Harry heard his mother ask Remus, but he did not respond.

Harry had to admit he looked extremely pale and very weak. He hoped tonight's transformation would not be too terrible. Remus looked to be on the edge of something. Harry knew he'd forced himself to be at the party though, no matter how sick he truly felt.

"So we'll be going to Diagon Alley together, yes?" Mrs. Weasley called out to Lily.

"Yes, for sure!" she called back from the kitchen. "And I would _really_ fancy visiting _Flourish & Blotts_."

"We are _for sure_ going to visit _Flourish & Blotts_!" promised Mrs. Weasley.

Lily came back around into the sitting room and blushed furiously.

"Good."

Remus stood up from the couch then and winced terribly. James and Sirius were on their feet at once.

"Is everything alright, Remus?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Y-yeah," he tried to say, but then suddenly ran out of the room, followed closely by an alarmed looking James.

"YES!" yelled Ron happily, as he'd beat the others _again_ at Exploding Snap.

Harry threw down his cards in forfeit and went to sit on the couch near Ginny, while still staring after where Remus, Sirius, and his father had disappeared. Fred and George challenged Ron to another round now and Neville was also still into the game. Percy had retired home earlier and Ron's other brothers couldn't make it at all. Sirius returned from the corridor then. He gave Lily a nod and Harry a wink before he joined the boys on the carpet and got into the game.

Sighing of relief, Harry turned to Ginny.

"Hi," he said.

She blushed furiously. It made Harry really uncomfortable. He looked away.

"Hey, that's not fair!" Ron was shouting now. "You guys cheated!"

"We did not!" said Fred and George together.

"Yeah, we would never dream of cheating!" said Sirius, who now smirked at Fred and George and gave them secret high-fives.

James walked back into the room now and sat on the couch next to Lily, who was in a deep conversation with Mrs. Weasley.

"Remus has taken off for the night," James announced.

What seemed like an innocent statement to the others meant something completely different to Harry, Lily, Neville, and Sirius. Remus was now fully transformed into his wolf state.

"H-happy birthday," Ginny suddenly said to Harry, in an extremely trembling voice.

He looked at her and smiled slightly.

"Thanks."

"My birthday is not until next month," said Ginny.

"Oh, so you'll be eleven by the time you start at Hogwarts," said Harry.

"Yeah," said Ginny, sadly.

"Are…are you not excited?"

"No, I am. I'm just nervous."

"That's okay. It's normal to be nervous for your first time."

"Damn right, it is," said Sirius, without looking up from his cards.

"Padfoot!" exclaimed Lily.

Sirius let out a bark of laughter and James smirked at him. Harry scratched his head and then shrugged.

"W-what's Padfoot?" Ginny asked Harry.

"Oh, it's just Sirius' nickname."

"Ah."

"Remus—uh, I mean Professor Lupin, is Moony. And dad is Prongs."

"Cute."

Ginny then jumped up from her seat and went to sit next to her mum, who was talking to Lily about the latest on some wizard's collection of works.

Mr and Mrs. Weasley ended up leaving at about midnight, while their kids stayed over at the house for the rest of the holidays, after much begging. Harry's parents were of course delighted to have them all over. Fred and George got one of the spare bedrooms while Ron bunked with Harry and Neville. James and Sirius slept in the game room and Ginny bunked with Lily. Remus' transformation had led him to run off so he wouldn't be spending the next couple of nights at their house.

Harry and Neville spent the next couple of days playing Quidditch with the Weasleys. For Ginny's birthday, Mr and Mrs. Weasley floo'd in for a nice birthday lunch that Lily helped Molly prepare. And just two days after the birthday, their Hogwarts letters arrived.

"We'll have to go down all together," said Mrs. Weasley as she read over Fred's list of school books.

"How about today?" said Lily, brightly, handing Harry back his. "James will be at the office all day. Sirius ran down to Hogsmeade to take care of a few things. The boys and I have nothing else to do."

"Sounds like a plan!" said Mrs. Weasley.

So they packed the children up and made their way over to Diagon Alley. The entire way there, Harry told Ginny about the four Hogwarts houses. She seemed to have relaxed a bit around him since spending so much time at his house the last two weeks or so, so she was very enthusiastic about hearing what he had to say. Just as they reached the Leaky Cauldron, they stopped short at the sight of a familiar man waiting for them just outside the door.

"Padfoot, what are you doing here?!" exclaimed Lily as she went over to hug him.

"Wouldn't miss Diagon Alley shopping, would I?" he said, simply, returning the hug.

The group made their way over to Diagon Alley together and stopped just outside Gringotts Bank. Mrs. Weasley and Lily went inside to fetch gold while Sirius waited with the rest outside and argued with Fred and George about famous Quidditch teams. Suddenly, a crowd of reporters who'd been standing a little ways down the twisting street ran towards them, all shouting.

"Mr. Potter!" "Harry Potter!" "Oy, Mr. Potter! Over here!"

Harry stared. The witches and wizards had managed to push Ron, Neville, Fred, George, Ginny and Sirius out of the way and were now all gathered around Harry.

"Could we please get a quote for the _Daily Prophet_?" yelled one wizard, holding out a quill with a notebook.

"Mr. Potter, tell us about that night all those years ago!" yelled a witch.

The reporters seemed to be at competition over who could shout at Harry louder than the rest. Harry was beyond grateful when Sirius suddenly pushed his way through the crowd and roughly grabbed him.

"We're very busy today, thank you!" he yelled, and he moved Harry out of the way and into the bank, followed by the others. The band of witches and wizards remained outside, shouting.

"Such madness!" cried Ginny as they entered the bank lobby.

"Welcome to my world," said Sirius, dully.

The others laughed.

"Does your grandmother even know you're here?" Harry wondered as he turned to face Neville.

Neville shrugged.

"I haven't seen my grandparents in years," said Ginny, quietly.

Neville smiled at her.

"I'm sure they miss you very much."

Ginny smiled back.

Harry glanced over at Sirius who was now telling Fred, "Look, take it from a man who's spent a fair amount of time refereeing professional Quidditch teams…"

Ron was now telling Neville about a rumor he'd heard from his father regarding some aurors. And Ginny was looking around the Gringotts lobby with curious eyes while anxiously awaiting her mother's return. Just when Harry was about to ask her whether _she_ was into Quidditch at all, a wild crowd ran right past them and out of the building, screaming "He's here! He's here!" Lily and Molly flew out of the bank as well and looked around happily.

"Come along, everyone!" Mrs. Weasley called out as she and Lily led the way out of the lobby to _Flourish & Blotts_.

The reporters outside seemed to have forgotten all about Harry.

"What's going on?" Ron asked as he peered over the heads of the crowd at _Flourish & Blotts_.

But all soon became clear when a tall man dressed in lilac wizard's robes appeared at the front of the crowded shops and flashed clean-toothed smiles at the many witches who were gasping and applauding.

"Oh lord," muttered Ron.

"Who is it?" asked Harry.

"Gilderoy Lockhart," said Fred and George together.

Mrs. Weasley and Lily had made their way to the very front and had quickly joined in on the cheering. Meanwhile, Sirius now looked as though he was going to be sick.

"Mummy!" cried Ginny and she ran to join her at the front.

"Who's…?" began Harry.

"He's the biggest nutcase you'll ever meet," said Ron. "Mum absolutely worships him. He's written all these books about loads of stuff he's done in the dark arts and how he's all brilliant and everything. Honestly, I think the man is just really full of himself."

"He certainly looks like a fraud," said Sirius, darkly, before excusing himself to check something outside.

Harry suddenly put two and two together. He was the man that his mother had been fussing over for weeks. He was the man that Neville had thought was making James jealous. All made sense now. But before Harry could make any comments on the matter, he was momentarily distracted by a blond-haired figure making its way towards him. The figure stopped dead at the sight of him and sneered.

"Malfoy!" exclaimed Ron. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"Why not?" said Malfoy, coldly. "It _is_ almost time to return to Hogwarts."

"You a Lockhart fanatic too?" Ron asked.

"Glad to see you still retain your sense of humour, Weaslebee," said Malfoy.

"Hey," said Neville. "Is Hermione here too?"

"Front," said Malfoy, before pushing his way past Harry towards the exit.

He froze. Sirius had just entered through the door again. Completely forgetting all the excitement in the shop, Harry turned around to observe as the man and the boy stared at each other, both completely silent. And then, Malfoy ran out of the shop. Sirius stared after him for a long time, before turning back to Harry and the others and smiling broadly.

"What say we ditch this shop and go look at _Quality Quidditch Supplies_?" he said.

* * *

 _Draco_

* * *

"Wow," said Hermione for the fourth time that afternoon. "And they all stopped talking to him when he ran away? And they started hating him even when he was sorted into…Wow."

"Yep," said Draco, ripping some grass and throwing it.

The two were sitting in their usual spot in the meadow on the first of July. Hermione was slicing some fruit that she'd brought along with her and Draco was busy playing with the grass.

"That's quite a family history you have there," said Hermione.

"Yeah, tell me about it," joked Draco. "So now I know what Blaise was talking about when he told me that his mother and everyone else on that side of the family doesn't talk to her father because he is a muggle."

"But Sirius is not a muggle though, is he?" Hermione pointed out.

"No but he's a muggle-born lover," said Draco, and he regretted it just as soon as he did because Hermione suddenly turned very flushed. "I only meant…"

"That's fine, I know what you meant."

Draco looked down.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Hermione simply handed him an apple slice and continued her way through the fruit basket.

"So your mother really hasn't spoken to him in all this time?"

"No, I told you. No one from the Blacks—current or former—talks to him anymore."

"Since the night he ran away, right?"

"Yep."

"And w-where did he go?"

Draco shrugged.

"That's probably something I'll have to ask him."

Hermione looked up at him.

"You mean…you're going to speak with him?"

Again, Draco shrugged.

He hadn't really given it much thought. He'd been too busy trying to comprehend all the information that Narcissa had fed him that day when she picked him up from the train station. They'd spent a good hour at the Leaky Cauldron, where Narcissa indulged in him her entire family history. He now knew everything that had happened—how she and her sister hated Sirius and his brother their whole childhoods, how Sirius' whole family (including his brother) became Death Eaters while he maintained his friendships with muggle-borns, how everything changed when he was the only Black to be sorted into Gryffindor, and how they completely disowned him when he ran away at age 16. Again, Draco found himself wondering whether Severus knew any of this at all.

"I don't understand one thing," said Hermione, suddenly. Draco looked up at her.

"If Sirius Black is your mother's cousin and he has a brother, then that means the brother is also your mother's cousin, isn't he?"

"Yeah," said Draco, slowly.

"Well where is he?"

Draco bit his lip.

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

"So?" Draco raised his eyebrows as he watched his mother intently.

She took another swig of butterbeer and then looked around the Leaky Cauldron again, to make sure no one was listening in on their conversation.

"Mother," Draco pressed.

Narcissa sighed and turned back to him.

"Azkaban. Regulus Black is in Azkaban."

"What?! Why?" exclaimed Draco.

"He was a supporter of You Know Who…all of our family were."

"But you and father weren't sent to Azkaban, were you?"

"Your father was able to negotiate a deal with the ministry. We gave up all of our things…the house elf we used to have, all our family heirlooms, everything."

"But then…do Sirius and Regulus talk?"

"No Draco, keep up!" snapped Narcissa. "Regulus was a _Death Eater_ and Sirius never was. He was a muggle-born lover probably since birth."

Draco groaned slightly at the mention of muggle-born lover but bit into his cookie.

"Mother," he said, keeping his head bowed. "Would you ever disown _me_ …if I became a muggle-born lover…?"

Narcissa stared at him.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded.

Draco looked up.

"I only meant—"

"You are a _Malfoy_! You are not to associate yourself with that lot. How would you?—you're in Slytherin!"

"Y-yes mother,"

"And don't ever mention it again!"

Draco looked away from her again, and his eyes fell upon a corpulent wizard with a top hat, sitting way on the other side of the bar, his eyes on Draco.

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

"Well?" said Hermione now.

"I…I don't know," said Draco, slowly. "I don't know where his brother is."

"I see."

"Look, it's getting pretty late," said Draco, suddenly jumping up and tossing his fruit back in the basket. Hermione frowned up at him. "I should be getting back."

"Oh okay," she said, in a slightly hurt voice, but also jumped up. "Same time tomorrow then?"

"Yep," he answered, and then he ran off in the other direction of the meadow, leaving Hermione to ponder over everything he'd just told her.

But the next time Draco went to meet Hermione was not until a week later. He had avoided the meeting altogether because he didn't fancy any more questions. When she saw him sitting in the meadow, she marched right up to him and kicked him hard in the leg. Then, after the shouting had finally subsided, she took a seat next to him—still hot-faced—and demanded that he tell her where he'd been all week.

"I was just hanging around the house," he said, sheepishly. "You know…helping mother with things."

"Nice of you to tell your _best friend_ ," said Hermione, bitterly.

"I'm sorry," said Draco, for the hundredth time. "Anyway, what have you been up to?"

"Reading."

"Reading what?"

" _Magical Me_."

Draco frowned, and then glared at Hermione.

" _Again_?" he said. "AGAIN?"

"YES, AGAIN!" exclaimed Hermione, holding up her head.

"Why don't you go and marry him already?" cried Draco.

Hermione looked started at his question, but quickly changed the subject back to his family.

"So your whole family were supporters of…of…"

"You know who, yeah," said Draco, slightly annoyed.

"But Sirius was not."

"That's right."

Hermione bit her lip.

"Well…what do you think about all of this?"

"How do you mean?"

"What…which side do you identify with more?"

Draco frowned at the question. What was she really asking here? Whether he supported You Know Who?

"I'm not on any side," he told her, firmly.

Hermione nodded quickly.

"And it's not like I don't wish I had it like _you_ ," Draco added a moment later.

"W-what do you mean?"

"You were new to the wizarding world, with no history to follow you everywhere you go. You can choose any side that you want. I can't."

"Everyone can," said Hermione, quietly. "Just because you were born into one side does not mean you can't go and choose another. Look at Sirius! He was born into a completely Death Eater family and he chose the other side—the good side."

"You mean the side _Potter_ and _his_ lot are on?" said Draco, bitterly.

Hermione stared at him.

"If I understand correctly, Potter and his lot were the people that got rid of the Dark Lord in the first place."

"Maybe," said Draco, "but they also ruined everything for the rest of us. Look at my family…they lost everything— _everything_ when the war ended."

"That's not Potter's fault," said Hermione. Draco glared at her. "Your family _chose_ the side they were most faithful to. Just like you can choose now."

Draco looked away. She just didn't get it. She never would.

* * *

It had been a pretty low-key summer. Draco had spent his days doing things around the house that his mother instructed, and his evenings sneaking out into the meadow to meet Hermione. They stopped discussing his family around mid-July, upon Draco's insistence. But even as August moved its way forward, Draco found that Hermione was always trying to sneak some more questions past him. Her curiosity was overwhelming. Though, Draco could understand it himself.

When their Hogwarts letters arrived, Hermione told Draco that her parents were going to take him and her down to Diagon Alley together. Narcissa did not even offer to accompany Draco. She just gave him a small money pouch and told him to be back within three hours. So Draco ran across the meadow over to Hermione's side of it and joined her parents in their muggle car, thanking them at least five times for the ride.

"Don't even worry about it, sweetheart," said Mrs. Granger happily, as they pulled up to where the Leaky Cauldron was. "We are happy to do it."

Once they were safely in Diagon Alley, Mr and Mrs. Granger left Hermione and Draco to explore some of the shops while they went to talk to some wizards who'd been kind enough to act as their escorts the last time they'd visited.

"We should probably wait for them to get back before we go to Flourish & Blotts," said Hermione as she scanned her booklist. "Mum wants to see him too."

"Yeah," said Draco, looking around the crowded street.

Would Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle be there today? And what would they say if they saw him with the Grangers?

"I don't need any instruments, how about you?"

What would _anybody_ say once they realised who Draco was and just how muggle the Grangers were? Was he putting his family on the pedestal for more gossip?

"Draco? Draco!"

"What?!"

"Are you even listening to me? I said, do you need any instruments?"

"Oh," he looked down at his own list and then shook his head. Hermione had her eyes narrowed now.

"We're back!" sang Mrs. Granger as she joined her daughter's side once again. "Shall we?"

"Yes, let's go!" exclaimed Hermione, and she led the way to Flourish & Blotts and pulled her mother to the very front of the shop, where at least a hundred witches were crowded together and admiring the great and powerful Gilderoy Lockhart.

Draco hung around the side with Mr. Granger, eyeing the fanatic witches with pity. What were they going on about? It was just another wizard. Sure, he'd written all these books but so what?

"I worry about her, you know," said Mr. Granger, suddenly.

Draco looked up at him and followed his eyes to where Hermione was standing, clapping enthusiastically to Gilderoy Lockhart as he bowed before her and her mother.

"She's always been afraid of what people thought of her," Mr. Granger continued. "Even when she was younger…her differences were more obvious to us than anyone else, but there were the occasional incidences where she came home crying because the other kids called her… weird."

Draco nodded.

"I worry that she's like that even at her school now."

"She's not," Draco assured him. Mr. Granger looked down at him. "Hermione and I are…in different houses. But we do see each other often and I can tell you for sure that she is not like that anymore. She…she has _courage_."

"Does she really?" said Mr. Granger, who looked very pleased to hear this.

Draco smiled.

"Yeah, she does."

"That's wonderful."

They both looked back at Hermione who was beaming at Lockhart now. Beside her, her mother was trying to shove some books in his face for him to sign.

"Ladies, ladies, all in good time!" he said, proudly.

Rolling his eyes, Draco said to Mr. Granger, "I'll be outside. Another minute of this and I might just hex the man."

Mr. Granger laughed, but then stopped Draco leaving.

"There is another thing that worries me," he said.

Draco listened.

"I… I can't help but wonder how my daughter…you know, fits in to this…this new world."

"Ah," said Draco.

"Whether or not she feels herself," continued Mr. Granger. "And if she is…discriminated against…"

Draco swallowed.

"Is she?" said Mr. Granger.

Draco didn't know what to say. How could he tell Hermione's father that she was among the most discriminated-against group in the entire wizarding world? He couldn't!

"I will never let anyone discriminate against her," he found himself saying instead, and without waiting for Mr. Granger's reaction, he turned and left.

As Draco made his way through the crowd to the shop exit, he found that he recognised many of the people there….especially Potter and Weasley, who were right by the exit door. Draco groaned. He had really hoped not to run into them there.

"Malfoy!" exclaimed Weasley. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"Why not?" said Draco, coldly. "It _is_ almost time to return to Hogwarts."

Or did he think that only _his_ family did back-to-school shopping? How self-centered could you get?

"You a Lockhart fanatic too?" Weasley asked.

Draco glared at him.

"Glad to see you still retain your sense of humour, Weaslebee."

That shut him right up. Draco glanced at Potter and he seemed completely neutral and not interested in saying anything at all.

"Hey," said Longbottom suddenly. Draco stared at him. "Is Hermione here too?"

"Front," he said, lazily.

He then pushed his way past Potter towards the exit door, and found it blocked by a tall man with long black hair who was staring down at him with an awed expression. The man looked very well—wealthy and well-kept. He had several gold chains around his neck and was wearing jeans and a leather jacket with a sophisticated collared-shirt underneath. He continued to stare at him, unable to speak. And Draco had completely tuned out everyone else in the shop and focused on the man only.

And then, something seemed to snap inside of him and he ran past Sirius Black and out into the sunny street.

His mind seemed to race as he walked rapidly, past crowds of wizarding families talking about their shopping. So that was Sirius Black… _Sirius Black_! He did look well. But he did not resemble Narcissa at all. In fact, he looked very much like Draco's aunt, whose picture he'd once stumbled upon when he was a child. Narcissa had since had it locked away, out of Draco's reach, and forbid him from mentioning her. He had no idea what had happened to her or where she was. But Sirius looked a lot like her indeed, so he was definitely related to Draco.

Draco found himself descending into a darker alley, away from the crowds and the noise and away from the sunny street altogether. This alleyway was more secluded and quiet—exactly his kind of place. He wandered further in, glancing around at the various strange-looking witches and wizards that walked by. They all either had their heads bowed or were muttering to themselves. The place certainly was creepy. But then, Draco spotted two figures peering in through a dark shop window, and smiled as he began to approach them.

"Supposedly, it'll suck the eyeballs out of your worst enemy and leave them completely blind," Blaise was saying.

"Whoa," said the boy next to him.

"Hey there," said Draco.

Blaise smiled widely at him.

"Heyyyy! What're _you_ doing here?"

"Shopping," said Draco, shrugging.

"In Knockturn Alley?" exclaimed Blaise. "Blimey."

"Nah, I just wandered here by accident."

Blaise's friend turned around to look at Draco. He smiled at him vaguely but said nothing.

"Oh, this is Avery," said Blaise, lazily.

"Hey," said Draco.

Avery nodded.

"Soo…you getting anything, Blaise?" said Draco, his eyes still on Avery.

"Nah, mum says I'm too young to meet Borgin," said Blaise with a shrug, "Whatever that means."

"What is this place anyway?" said Draco, looking around the dark street.

"It's Knockturn Alley," said Avery. "It's the sketchiest wizarding shop in Britain."

"I see," said Draco, still looking around.

"They say You Know Who used to work here," said Blaise, in a lowered voice.

He pointed at the shop behind him called _Borgin & Burke's_ and Avery nodded.

"Just after he finished Hogwarts, he came here to work with Borgin."

Draco hadn't known any of that, but pretended that he had. He didn't like Avery one bit, but didn't want him to know that…or Blaise, for that matter.

"Come on, we should get out of here," said Blaise, who was now eyeing a toothless witch that was lurking in the corner, watching him.

"I have to get back to…" Draco let his voice trail off. "Never mind. I'll see you at Hogwarts, Blaise."

"Wait, are you sure you don't want to come with us?" said Blaise. "We're going to go throw Bertie Botts beans at first-years down at Madame Malkin's shop."

Draco hesitated.

"I have people waiting for me at…um, in shops," he said.

"Okay," said Blaise. "See you at Hogwarts then."

"See you."

Draco waved goodbye and exited the alleyway himself. He moved quickly through the crowds and found the Grangers waiting for him just outside _Flourish & Blotts_. Having purchased all their things, they made their way back to the Leaky Cauldron to find their muggle car.

Draco was very silent as they walked, though thankfully Hermione hadn't noticed because she was too busy telling her parents more about Gilderoy Lockhart. As they drove back home, Draco thought a lot about what Hermione had said back in the meadow. Even though he came from a family that had chosen one side, he had the ability to choose another…like Sirius had. But he also knew nothing about Sirius or why he'd done what he'd done. He'd never spoken to the man before in his life. So how was he supposed to follow in his footsteps if he hardly knew him? And why was he even listening to Hermione, a muggle-born girl who was completely new to the Wizarding World and had no history to tie her down? He couldn't listen to his parents though…they'd hardly ever shown to have a care in his life. And Severus was not exactly a trustworthy type. So who was Draco supposed to look up to in this time of need?

He thanked the Grangers once again and made his way across the meadow back to his house alone, all the while thinking about everything that everyone had told him. It was obvious which side Blaise and the other Slytherins were on…his parents too. It was very unclear where Severus' loyalties lay. And Hermione wasn't a factor. And then, Draco stopped himself. He couldn't rely on anyone else's opinions. It was good to hear them of course, but not good to rely on them. Besides, wasn't it _his_ choice, and nobody else's, what side he decided to take in the end?

* * *

 **Thanks and don't forget to review!**

 **The next chapter marks the beginning of Year 2 at Hogwarts and will be updated within the next couple of days.**


	13. Year 2: The Second Round

**A/N: Hey readers! Once again, I apologise for the delay. I'm not usually this bad with updates. But I promise you, I will finish this story. I am not one to abandon stories once I've already started them. And I am especially excited for writing fourth and fifth year. Hope you enjoy this first chapter of year 2! **

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks**

* * *

CHAPTER 13: YEAR 2—THE SECOND ROUND

* * *

 _Harry_

* * *

"…and the Bloody Baron is the ghost of Slytherin while Nearly Headless Nick is the Gryffindor ghost. Come to think of it, I don't know who the ghosts of Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff are…"

"Maybe the Wailing Widow?" said Ron, scratching his head.

"No," said Harry slowly, though he wasn't sure.

It was September 1st. Harry, Ron, Neville and Ginny were sitting in their compartment on the train to Hogwarts. Ginny was quite nervous for her first year and Harry was telling her everything he could about Hogwarts, having read _Hogwarts: A History_ too many times to count. Neville had so far spent the train ride sitting by the window with a book in his lap and Trevor in his hand. Ron was making his way through the chocolate frogs to the cauldron cakes that Harry had bought them all. And Ginny was sitting across from Harry with her arms curled around her legs. She had gotten over her shyness of Harry by now and was able to freely and openly talk to him, which was quite a relief.

"But what will I do if I'm _not_ sorted into Gryffindor?" Ginny wondered aloud, biting her lip.

Ron sighed exhaustively and tossed another frog card in his big pile.

"I _told_ you already," he whined. " _All Weasleys have been Gryffindors!_ "

"Really, I don't think there is any reason for you not to be one too," said Harry.

Neville suddenly looked up from his book and met Ginny's eyes.

"I am sure that the hat will listen to you if you suggest a house for yourself," he said, sweetly.

Ginny smiled shyly and then helped herself to a chocolate frog that Harry held out for her.

Just an hour later, she was back to her usual, cheerful self. Ron got his set of Wizard's Chess out and played with Harry all the way until lunchtime, with Ginny watching curiously and Neville reading by the window. After they'd changed into their Hogwarts robes and settled back into their seats, Ron switched the subject to Quidditch.

"I _really, really, really_ want one, Harry!" he cried. "Just think: The Nimbus 2001! I mean, you already have all the other models...it makes _no_ sense for you not to get this one and let your best friend ride it every once in a while!"

Harry chuckled.

Truth be told, he had thought about getting it. It was the newest model released that summer and told to be the fastest broom yet. It'd certainly be helpful in Quidditch. But spending an entire summer with Neville had given Harry a whole new perspective. He eventually decided that he had plenty of brooms and did not _need_ to get the next model every time it was launched. He was more fortunate than anyone else he knew, and he kept reminding himself to be grateful for that and not take advantage of it.

At that moment, Neville closed his book (as though stopping the topic of Quidditch altogether with this action) and gave Harry a serious look.

"What?" said Harry, puzzled.

"We should talk about…you know what," said Neville, lowering his voice significantly.

Harry glanced sideways at Ron, who seemed to understand perfectly and actually jumped up and slid open the compartment door.

"Ginny," he said, motioning for her to leave.

"What?" she asked suddenly. "Why do I have to leave?"

"We have to talk about something important," said Ron, motioning again.

"But—" said Ginny, looking around at the other two boys. She nearly had tears in her eyes.

"It's fine, Ron, just let her—" began Neville.

"No!" exclaimed Ron. "Little kids shouldn't hear such things!"

"What are you _talking_ about?" cried Harry, still not understanding what was going on.

But no one seemed to hear him because Ginny had turned a violent red colour—almost identical to her hair—and had slowly risen from her seat, glaring at Ron furiously.

" _I am only_ one _year younger than you!"_ she bellowed, suddenly getting tearful. "But I don't want to stay somewhere I can tell I'm not wanted!"

And before Harry, Ron or Neville could say or do anything else, Ginny ducked under Ron's arm which was holding open the compartment door and ran down the corridor, disappearing into the girls' toilet.

Harry turned to Ron.

"What?" said Ron, who looked a little uncomfortable.

"She's only your _sister_ ," Harry mumbled.

Ron shrugged and pulled him back down to the seat.

"She'll get over it. Anyway, we have more important things to talk to you about."

"Like _what?!_ " cried Harry, who was growing impatient now.

"Voldemort," said Neville, clearly.

Harry stared.

"W-what about him?"

Ron gaped at him.

"So you _do_ think he's going to come back, don't you? Neville's right!"

Harry turned to glare at Neville and then back at Ron.

"Do you two always discuss me in private?"

"Oh, never mind that!" cried Ron. "Have you told your parents?"

"I—there's nothing to tell!" Harry jumped from the seat and approached the compartment door, but Ron stopped him.

"Hey, where're you going?"

"To the _bathroom_ , Ron, unless you want to follow me there."

"Ron," said Neville. "Let him go."

Shrugging, Ron sat back down and Harry stormed out of the compartment. He really didn't like being interrogated like this. What did it matter anyway, whether Voldemort was going to come back or not? His parents and Dumbledore had worked together the last time to ensure that he would not kill Harry that night, and he was sure the same would happen again. Besides, he wouldn't mind fighting alongside his dad to destroy the most dangerous dark wizard of all time. It'd be kind of like an adventure, wouldn't it?

Harry walked along the corridor without the least bit intention of going to the bathroom. As he walked, he peered into every compartment that he could find, until finally he stopped in front of one particular one and stared through the window for a good minute or two. The two people inside finally noticed him and one of them jumped from her seat to open the door for him.

"Hello," said Hermione Granger.

"Hello," said Harry, awkwardly. "Could I come in?"

Hermione hesitated. She looked round at her blond-haired friend on the seat by the window, and he gave her a slight nod, so she let Harry through. He took the seat across from Malfoy while Hermione took the seat next to him, facing Harry as well.

"What are you doing here, Potter?" said Malfoy, lazily.

Harry wondered for a minute. What _was_ he doing there? He hadn't planned on meeting with them. But now that he thought about it, that brief meeting down at Flourish  & Blotts had been on his mind to this day. He knew Remus was right—he couldn't stop Sirius from reaching out to Malfoy. But he could stop Malfoy from reaching out to Sirius.

"I wanted to ask you something," he said, loudly and clearly. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something...er, something important."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow and then folded his arms across his chest.

"I'm listening," he said.

Harry glanced at Hermione who was eyeing him curiously. He opened his mouth to speak, but Malfoy beat him to it.

"She stays," he said, firmly.

Hermione nodded her head once.

"Fine then," said Harry, shrugging.

He leaned forwards.

"I suppose you know why I'm here," he began.

"I have my theories, yes," said Malfoy. "Sirius Black?"

"Yeah, him," said Harry, glancing sideways at the moving hills in the window. "I wanted to know what your intentions are with him."

"My intentions?" said Malfoy, raising his eyebrows again.

"Yeah, like…do you plan on talking to him at all?"

From the corner of his eye, he caught Hermione biting her lip and eyeing her friend nervously.

"I don't know," said Malfoy, calmly. "What's it to _you_ , anyway?"

"He is my Godfather," said Harry, meeting Malfoy's eyes again. "I think I have a right to know if you plan on messing with him."

"And _I_ think," said Malfoy, leaning forwards to level with Harry, "That you should stay out of business that doesn't concern you, Potter."

Harry wanted to punch him—he really did—but thought it best not to get expelled from Hogwarts before he even got there for his second year. So it took all his will power to stand up and walk out of the compartment calmly and quietly. How _could_ Hermione, a perfectly respectable Gryffindor—though bossy and annoying at times—be around such an _imbecile_?! But Harry threw the thought out of his mind once he saw Ginny emerging from the girls' toilet and looking around frantically for the compartment.

"Hey," he said to her.

She turned round to look at him.

"Hi," she said, quietly. "Y-you left too?"

"Yeah," said Harry, reaching to take her hand. "Come on, let's go back together. I promise Ron will behave this time."

* * *

"Weasley, Ginevra!" called Professor McGonagall.

"She's up!" said Neville, who elbowed Ron and nodded at the Sorting Hat up at the front.

Ron pushed his silver goblet away, moaned at his hungry state, and watched as his sister slowly made her way up to the stool. Harry swore that the hat had been on her head for no longer than a second when it bellowed out, "GRYFFINDOR!" He, Ron, Neville, Fred, George and Percy all jumped to their feet and cheered the loudest of the Gryffindor table, as Ginny skipped her way over to them and thanked everyone who was congratulating her. She took the seat between Harry and Neville and smiled benignly. Professor McGonagall, who was now finished with the sorting, rolled up the list and carried the hat and the stool away as Professor Dumbledore announced the beginning of the feast and caused food to appear on the four house tables, colourful and fresh.

Harry was delighted. He hadn't had much to eat on the train and was positively starving. Ron _had_ eaten and was _still_ starving. When they'd had their food, they listened to Dumbledore give his start-of-term speech. Last year, Harry had half-paid attention to it. It was mostly just boring things about new rules that the caretaker, Mr. Filch, had come up with over the summer. But this year, something that Dumbledore said seriously caught his attention, and he looked up at the headmaster, fully alert.

"There will be a slight change in teachers this year," said Dumbledore. "Professor Lupin will, until further notice, be taking up the post of Transfiguration teacher, while Professor McGonagall will be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for all grades this year."

Ron looked round at Harry and Neville, as though he expected they'd know this kind of information beforehand and had simply failed to inform him. But Harry and Neville were just as perplexed as everyone else at this news. Harry glanced up at the staff table to where Remus was sitting. He was apparently midst conversation with Professor McGonagall and paying no attention to Dumbledore's words at all. Harry frowned. His cycle had been the day before, and he looked quite well. Why had he switched to _Transfiguration_ of all subjects? Next thing Dumbledore had to say for Harry to fly on out of Hogwarts would be that Snape was going to be the new headmaster next term. Harry shivered at the thought, and listened on as Dumbledore concluded his speech. The students then descended from the Great Hall and to their common rooms. Percy of course took the lead in showing the first-years where Gryffindor tower was located, but Ginny had decided to skip her way over to where Harry, Ron and Neville were climbing the stairs.

As they walked, Harry saw Hermione push past them to say hello to Neville. She glanced sideways at Harry but did not acknowledge him or mention his brief conversation with Malfoy on the train, for which Harry was slightly grateful. He had not yet told Ron or Neville about it, and wasn't sure he was going to at all. He didn't want them or anyone else to know that it seriously bothered him that he might very well soon have to share his godfather with a prat like Malfoy. And the fact that Malfoy had not exactly denied it was not comforting either. So far, not a good start to another year at Hogwarts.

Luckily, Ron was so full that he fell asleep the minute his head hit the pillow, so he never got the chance to ask why Harry was so quiet. Neville was also heavily immersed in his book that he didn't seem to notice Harry at all. Dean and Seamus also collapsed on their beds and soon, Neville fell asleep too. By midnight, Harry was the only one awake in the dormitory, sitting up on the window sill and watching the full moon reflected in the lake. Was there something that Remus was hiding from him?

Unable to bring himself any closer to sleep, Harry jumped off of the window sill and tiptoed his way across the dormitory to the door. He stopped short on the spiral steps when he noticed a little redheaded figure sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace by herself. Harry meant to turn around and go back, but Ginny had noticed him and softly called out "Hey you!"

Harry turned back around and smiled slightly.

"Hey," he said.

"Well, aren't you coming down?" said Ginny.

Harry hesitated and then climbed down the steps to join her. If he was going to be awake anyway, he might as well have some company.

"What are you doing up?" he asked, taking a seat next to her on the couch.

"Oh, I don't know," said Ginny, with a slight shrug, her eyes back on the glowing fireplace. "You?"

"Dunno," said Harry, mimicking her shrug.

Ginny smiled. It was strange, but she somehow really reminded him of his mother. Aside from the fiery red hair, she made the same sort of gestures and almost had the same sort of smile. What a coincidence.

"It's going to be okay, you know," said Harry, noticing the worried look on Ginny's face. Ginny looked up at him. "Tomorrow will be a good day. You'll see."

"How…how was your first day?" Ginny whispered.

Harry thought for a minute.

"Me and Ron woke up late and missed breakfast which is when McGonagall hands out the timetables. And we also missed our first class of the day, which unlucky for us was Potions with Snape. He gave us detention."

Ginny's eyes went round.

" _You slept in_?!" she cried.

"Not on purpose!" Harry defended. "Besides, we got to meet the elves in the kitchens. They served us a separate breakfast. They're really nice."

Ginny nodded, looking back at the fireplace.

"So will you tell me then, what happened back there on the train?" she asked, suddenly.

Harry gulped nervously. He hadn't expected this now.

"Um," he said, hoping Ginny would let him off the hook. But she looked at him intently and waited for an answer. "It was nothing, really." Ginny stared. "Well, alright. But you can't tell anyone. I mean it." Ginny nodded. "Okay so I kind of had this talk with Dumbledore last year and he told me about that night when my mum and dad and I defeated Voldemort. And something about the way he talked made me feel like Voldemort could possibly return one day…"

"Really?" gasped Ginny.

"I don't know for sure," said Harry, truthfully. "We're still only guessing. So Ron and Nev just wanted to know if I'd told my parents or if I had any other theories on the subject."

"And do you?"

Harry shook his head.

"But if he _could_ return, he'd…he'd go after _you_ , wouldn't he?" said Ginny, in a low voice.

Harry shrugged, though deep down he knew this was exactly true, and one of his biggest fears currently. Sensing this, Ginny leaned forwards, catching his eyes.

"I don't think you have much to worry about," she said.

"Why's that?"

"Because you are not alone at all. You have an entire family and friend support system."

The impact of these words was incredibly powerful. But all Harry could come up with in the moment was a small smile. He hadn't expected to tell Ginny everything. In fact, he had no idea what had possessed him to do so at all. He hadn't expected this level of maturity from Ginny, that's for sure. Whatever Ron always said about her being too little and silly was hardly true, as Harry could very well see now.

"Are you going to sleep then?" he asked, standing up.

"No, I think I'll stay here a while," said Ginny, returning his smile.

Harry nodded.

"Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight."

He moved towards the upper staircase to the boys' dormitory and shut the door behind him, leaving Ginny sitting by the fireplace and anxiously awaiting her first day. Kicking off his shoes, Harry finally changed into his pajamas and scrambled into bed. Though, he lay awake for the next little while, thinking over what Ginny had said. It was true; he was not alone. And today, that was definitely something to be grateful for.

* * *

 _Draco_

* * *

The last few times that Draco had ridden the Hogwarts Express with Hermione were fairly enjoyable. But this time, he felt he would rather be with anyone else. Anyone at all.

"…and did you know he used to go to Hogwarts?! Yes! _The_ Gilderoy Lockhart was at Hogwarts! He was a Ravenclaw student. Though apparently, he narrowly escaped from being sorted into Slytherin."

"What would've been wrong with Slytherin?" said Draco, suddenly.

"Oh Draco, I didn't mean anything by it!" cried Hermione. "And anyway, you're missing the point! From what I've heard, his wand is a cherry and dragon heartstring. Those are thought to be really, _really_ unique! Ollivander told me so himself last year when I went to pick out my wand!"

"But—"

"And did you know that each and every one of his books has been a bestseller? I'm positive that I must have read them all by now, at least twice each. They're so brilliantly well-thought out!"

"I—"

"And he is a half-blood! His mother is a witch but his father is a muggle. In interviews, he has always said that he feels very fortunate to have been born less than pureblood, because now he can identify with those witches and wizards who are not. Oh, he's absolutely _amazing_ in every perfect way! And he's only 17 years older than us! That's not too bad, is it?"

"No matter how you try to justify it, it's still bloody disgusting," muttered Draco, but Hermione thoroughly ignored him and went on with her rant.

And so, after about an hour or so of this, Draco busied himself with watching the scenes change in the window as he leaned against it. It had been far too long a summer being stuck in his house with those parents of his. He could hardly wait to be back at Hogwarts and to see Severus again. He was dying to tell him about that encounter he'd had with Sirius back at Flourish & Blotts. He really wanted to know what Severus would think about Draco possibly contacting Sirius. The idea had been swirling in his head all summer, and after seeing him face-to-face for the very first time, he just knew that he had to reach out to him in some way. Sirius was probably not reaching out to _him_ because of his mother. Draco knew all too well how she could be.

Finally, after the lady with the food trolley made her rounds and they'd bought their sweets, Draco begged Hermione to talk about something—anything—else. And so, she switched the subject altogether and began talking about what their second year would be like.

"It's always exciting to be someplace where you're no longer the youngest," Hermione pointed out.

Draco shrugged. He didn't really care about the first-years. Or classes, for that matter. All that seemed to be on his mind, apart from Sirius, was Quidditch. He'd never been a particularly enthusiastic fan about any famous Quidditch teams, but the sport itself was fascinating to him. It had been his pastime for years and years—sort of like a place of refuge, whenever he was feeling down. And now, thanks to Sev, he had the most amazing broom out there and could not wait to show everyone at school. Marcus had practically guaranteed him a spot on the team, so he doubted there was a way he wouldn't make it. He felt sure that this year would definitely make up for the last.

Just as Hermione was slowly switched the subject back to Lockhart, there was a knock on the compartment door. Draco sighed with relief, only to be caught short when he realised who it was. Hermione jumped up from her seat and opened the compartment door, revealing Harry Potter who was standing there, hands in his pockets.

"Hello," said Hermione.

"Hello," said Potter. "Could I come in?"

Hermione looked round at Draco for approval. He had no idea why he'd done it, but he gave her a slight nod which she took as encouragement and let Potter in. He took the seat across from Draco while Hermione sat at his side.

"What are you doing here, Potter?" said Draco, lazily.

For a while, they were quiet. Potter seemed to be contemplating something. Draco really hadn't expected him to come there. In fact, he thought he sensed exactly the reason why Potter had come there in the first place. He'd suspected that something like this would happen. It was almost hilarious how right he had been.

"I wanted to ask you something," said Potter, finally. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something very important."

Draco raised an eyebrow and then folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against his seat.

"I'm listening," he said, wanting Potter to just spit it out already. For a Gryffindor, he was really a coward.

But Potter seemed to be occupied with Hermione who was eyeing him curiously. He opened his mouth to speak, but Draco interrupted for he knew exactly what he would request next.

"She stays," he announced.

It was not a suggestion. It was a demand. Hermione was his best friend in the whole world and he was not about to hide anything from her. She was going to know exactly what Potter wanted to say to him, whether he liked it or not. And Hermione seemed to agree with this because she nodded her head firmly and waited for Potter to speak.

"Fine then," he finally said, shrugging and leaning forwards to look at Draco.

"I suppose you know why I'm here then," he began.

"I have my theories, yes," said Draco, casually. "Sirius Black?"

"Yeah, him," said Potter, who looked like he was in pain now. "I wanted to know what your intentions are with him."

"My intentions?" said Draco, who was now pretending not to know what Potter was going on about.

Funnily enough, this was exactly how he'd imagined the conversation would go.

"Yeah, like…do you plan on talking to him at all?"

"I don't know," said Draco, calmly. "What's it to _you,_ anyway?"

"He is my Godfather," said Potter, as though marking his territory once and for all.

They eyed each other for a long minute before Potter spoke again.

"I think I have a right to know if you plan on messing with him."

What a little prat. How _dare_ he come over here and lay out all these demands for Draco? He was not even really related to Sirius. If anything, Draco was more related to him than Potter. They had _blood_ relations and as far as he knew, that was the most important factor in the world.

"And I think," he finally said, leaning forwards to level with Potter so that he listened and listened good, "That you should stay out of business that doesn't concern you, Potter."

To his great surprise, Potter did not respond. In fact, after a few more seconds of glaring at him, he simply jumped from his seat and calmly exited the compartment, leaving Draco and Hermione to stare after him. It wasn't long before Hermione looked round at Draco furiously.

"What?" he cried.

"He was just trying to be nice!" she exclaimed.

Draco rolled his eyes at her.

"That was so unnecessarily rude of you!" Hermione went on. "He's right, you know. You two may very well have to share Sirius Black soon as he _is_ Harry's Godfather. If you don't want to lose him, you'll have to be nicer to Harry."

"You can't lose something you don't have," said Draco, firmly, before turning his back on Hermione and staring out the window for the rest of the train journey.

He really should've ridden with Blaise and the others.

* * *

"It feels like it's been a really long time, mate!" said Blaise as he patted Draco on the shoulder.

"Yeah, you too," said Draco, taking a seat next to him at the Slytherin table.

Crabbe and Goyle looked pretty much ecstatic to finally be reunited with them all, as they were both positively grinning from ear to ear. Admittedly, Draco was pretty happy to be back and reunited as well. Though, one thing that was really bothering him was Avery, who'd chosen to sit across from him and Blaise. Whoever this kid was, he certainly wasn't planning on going away anytime soon.

The gang waited as the Sorting Ceremony occurred, after which Dumbledore finally made his speeches and let the students enjoy their Welcome Back Feast. Draco was actually hungry for once, and surprised many of his Slytherin pals by filling his plate to the fullest. Even Pansy Parkinson seemed puzzled for a good few minutes as she watched him bite into his turkey leg.

Nothing that Dumbledore said really interested Draco very much—except that Lupin and McGonagall had switched teaching positions that year, for whatever reason—and so he spent most of the speech trying to catch Severus' attention over at the staff table. However, he did not seem to even try to meet Draco's eyes, which was a bit of a disappointment. He really needed to talk to him as soon as possible about Sirius. It was already _killing_ him.

On the way out of the Great Hall, Draco caught a glimpse of Hermione making her way up the marble staircase with the rest of the Gryffindors. He waved goodbye to her and descended to the dungeons with his own friends, feeling especially happy to be back home.

As they walked, Draco caught sight of Marcus Flint who waved at him.

"Have a nice summer?" he called over the heads of students.

"Yep!" Draco called back. "You?"

"Couldn't have been better! We'll talk Quidditch later, okay?"

"Yeah, okay!"

Heck, he would make sure of it. He was really counting on having that conversation with Marcus.

The Slytherins suddenly found their path to the common room blocked by the Bloody Baron, who was moping around the dungeons, looking very angry. They tried to get past him but he was being very stubborn. It wasn't long before one of the prefects summoned their head of house to take care of the intolerable ghost. Draco was most grateful for this, and made a point of hanging back while the rest of his housemates crawled into the common room. When they were finally left alone in the corridor, Draco turned to Severus.

"Hey Sev!" he said.

"Hello Draco," said Severus, in the same Severus-like voice he always used. "How have you been? How is your mother?"

"Really well and she's fine," said Draco, shrugging at the comment about his mother. "I wanted to tell you something. It's about Sirius Black—"

"Shhhh!"

Draco looked puzzled. Severus looked around the empty corridor and then motioned for Draco to follow him. They went all the way to Severus' office and he even locked the door behind him before taking a seat at his desk. Draco sat down too.

"You're very paranoid today," he commented.

"It is not a good idea to talk about that out there," said Severus. "Anyway, what were you going to tell me?"

"Well, yeah so I ran into him."

"Where?"

"At Flourish & Blotts that day I went to Diagon Alley."

"Was your mother there? Did she see him as well?"

"No, I went with Hermione and her parents."

"The _Grangers?_ "

"Yeah, Sev, the Grangers. Keep up, will you?" Draco shook his head in frustration. " _Anyway_ , the point is that I saw Sirius and he saw me too."

"Did he say anything to you?"

"No, we didn't talk. But I just wanted to tell you because seeing him made me realise that I really want to talk to him."

Severus straightened up in his chair.

"Do you?"

"Yeah," said Draco, smiling slightly. "I think it'd be a really good idea."

"Whatever you like," said Severus, dully.

Draco studied Severus for a moment. He was acting very strange…avoiding his eyes and all.

"A-are you okay, Sev?" he dared to ask.

"Fine," Severus muttered.

A smirk suddenly crossed Draco's face, forcing Severus to look up at him in frustration.

"What?" he spat.

"You're not _jealous_ , are you?" said Draco, still smirking.

Severus sighed heavily and motioned for him to leave the office. Laughing, Draco jumped up from his seat and crossed over to the office door. Just before turning the knob however, he turned round to look at Severus.

"You'll always be the closest to a parent I'll ever have," he told him.

And he truly meant it.

"Hey, where've you been?" exclaimed Blaise once Draco climbed through the portrait hole and into the Slytherin common room.

"Talking to Sev," said Draco, walking over to join Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle and Avery on the carpet where they were playing cards.

"About what?" said Blaise.

"Stuff," answered Draco. "Deal me in."

Avery grabbed the cards and shuffled them again. Draco eyed him carefully. He couldn't quite pinpoint it, but there was something indeed very strange about Avery. Was it the way he walked or the way he talked? Draco hadn't a clue. But he really had a strange feeling when he was around Avery—one he did not like one bit.

"Everything okay there, pal?" said Avery, finally realising that Draco's eyes were on him.

Draco's head snapped up.

"What?" he said. "Yeah, fine."

"You looked to be lost in deep thought," said Avery, curiously, his voice ringing with something unfamiliar and unsettling to Draco.

"I said I'm fine," he snapped, liking Avery less and less by the minute.

Why on earth did Blaise hang around such a creepy bloke? No one else in Slytherin house made Draco feel so uncomfortable. There was just something about Avery…not really danger, but also not safety. Draco couldn't pinpoint it exactly. However, he shoved the thought of his mind and played with his friends until just before midnight, when they all decided to retreat to bed. Feeling slightly tired, Draco joined them up in the dormitory and found that he was able to quickly fall asleep. He had a really good feeling that this was definitely going to be his year.

* * *

 **Please review!**


	14. Year 2: Wingardium Leviosa

**A/N** : **Since you've been so kind and patient the last week and a half, I've decided to update _two_ chapters for you all this week. Enjoy :)**

 **Also, credits to Harry Potter Wikia for providing key facts and details about lessons and classes**

 **Disclaimer** **: Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks**

* * *

CHAPTER 14: YEAR 2—WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA

* * *

 _Harry_

* * *

Harry was on his third helping of pancakes when Professor McGonagall began to make her rounds with the timetables next morning at breakfast. She was taking extra-long with the sixth years—newly acclaimed NEWT students—so Harry, Ron and Neville did not rush their breakfast. Ginny had chosen to sit with some of her dorm mates in first-year, though she'd waved to them upon entering the Great Hall. Hermione was of course seated not too far from them so she could no doubt eavesdrop on their conversations. She had a book propped open against her orange juice and was obviously only pretending to read it, as Harry caught her glancing sideways every few minutes or so.

"Oy, Potter, Weasley!" cried a familiar voice. Harry turned round and smiled at Oliver Wood.

"Hey Wood, have a nice summer?" said Ron.

"Yep and I worked on and devised a whole new Quidditch training program," he said, proudly. "I am doing tryouts next week and first practice should be week after. I'll keep you posted."

"Okay," said Harry.

When Professor McGonagall finally got to them, she gave them each hard looks and said, "Nice to see you all at breakfast this year." Dean and Seamus grinned. Professor McGonagall handed Harry his timetable first and then gave Ron his. They waited until she was gone before they high-fived each other and cried, "WE HAVE SLUGHORN FOR POTIONS!" Those sitting around them gasped and clapped their hands a bit. Apparently this year, Professor Slughorn was taking on the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws while Snape was taking the Hufflepuffs and his own dreadful house. It was such a relief and definitely a good start to the year.

As soon as breakfast was over, Harry, Ron and Neville wished Ginny a good first day and went off to their first lesson of the day: Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor McGonagall. Harry knew she was very strict with Transfiguration, but he wondered what on earth she would do with his favourite subject, and whether he would have to later give Remus hell for switching with her.

"Take your seats, please!" McGonagall called as the students filed into her new classroom. "Quickly!"

Harry sat with Ron somewhere in the middle while Neville sat with Hermione not too far from them. McGonagall told them to get their books out and went to sit at the front desk.

"I know this is an unusual change," she began. "But Professor Lupin and I discussed our schedules this year and decided that switching our subjects would suit us both best."

"So is it going to be like this the whole year?" Seamus asked.

"Yes," answered McGonagall. "So, if you will turn your books to chapter one, we'll begin today's lesson with discussing yetis."

"But professor!" said Dean. "With Professor Lupin, we usually start the first class after any break with some practical assignment to get the feel of our wands again!"

"Yeah!" the class muttered in response.

Professor McGonagall frowned and then flipped the page of her own book.

"This is _my_ class, Mr. Thomas, so I kindly ask you to please do as I say."

The students groaned collectively and flipped the pages of their books.

"Can anyone tell me a little bit about the yetis before we begin?"

Of course Hermione's hand flew into the air first, as it always did. McGonagall pointed at her and Hermione cleared her throat.

"The yeti is a creature that is very like a troll. Muggles know it as Bigfoot or the Abominable Snowman. Their theories and myths come from our mistakenly-revealed secrets. Since the yeti is native to Tibet, Tibet has one of the worst wizarding secrecy records, due to its continuing breaches of Clause 73 of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. The International Confederation of Wizards has had to place a permanent International Task Force up in the mountains to help control the situation. But unfortunately, no witch or wizard has had the opportunity to study it up close yet, because the yeti will attack and eat anything that it meets. It fears fire however, and so skilled wizards have been known to be able to repel it. An example of such a wizard is Gilderoy Lockhart, who wrote _Year with the Yeti._ "

The girls in the class went absolutely crazy at the mention of Lockhart, and McGonagall had to snap her fingers several times to regain their attention.

"Thank you, Ms. Granger," she said firmly, once they'd quieted down. "That's five points for Gryffindors. Now, can anyone tell me why the yeti is so like the troll?"

"They're both big and stupid?" Ron suggested, earning himself a few laughs from Dean, Seamus, Harry and Neville.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," said McGonagall, without looking at him.

"But, professor!" said Hermione suddenly, waving her hand in the air.

"Yes, Ms. Granger?" said McGonagall, lazily.

"Trolls _are_ really stupid though. In fact, they are thought to be so stupid that an actual failed grading level for the OWLs is named after them!"

Ron turned very pale. Had Hermione actually defended him just now? What _had_ gotten into her this year?

After the lesson, they hurried off to their first ever Slughorn Potions lesson. Harry had heard so much about Slughorn from his mother so he was sure it would be a good class. But once he stepped through those doors however, something he _hadn't_ expected happened.

"Harry Potter!" exclaimed Slughorn, moving around the tables to come and shake Harry's hand. Harry smiled weakly as the professor beamed at him. "I can't believe that the Boy Who Conquered is going to be a student of mine! Why, this is just splendid! Here, boy. You must sit right here at the front where I can see you. Oh, this is going to be so much fun!"

Slughorn seemed to be the type who liked to seat his students himself. He put Ron way on the other end of the classroom and seated Hermione right next to Harry, having heard so much about her smarts apparently.

"I want my best, most shining—uh, I mean promising—students right up here at the front with me!" Slughorn whispered to Harry as he moved Neville to sit just behind them.

"Ah," was all Harry could say.

He glanced sideways at Hermione, who also looked displeased with having been seated next to him. Yes, this was definitely going to be an interesting year.

The potions lesson itself was not bad. They did learn some things and it was a whole lot better than potions with Snape had ever been. Harry was still put on the spot a lot, but for very different reasons. Slughorn seemed to absolutely adore him and his fame. He also mentioned Harry's mother briefly, saying that she had been his absolute favourite student. Hermione looked bothered by this, but Harry simply smiled and nodded over and over again.

When he collapsed on the couch in the Gryffindor common room that evening, Harry wished he had slept in that year too. It was definitely not the sort of first day he'd expected. Ron looked exhausted. He placed his feet up on the table and yawned loudly. Neville took several thick books out of his bag and arranged them on the table nicely.

"Quite a day," said Ron.

Harry nodded.

He wasn't sure what he thought of Slughorn, but there was no doubt in that he was better than Snape. _Anyone_ , even that old git Gilderoy Lockhart—who seemed to be all the rage even at school nowadays—would be better than Snape. The only thing that Harry regretted about his first day was that they didn't have Transfiguration scheduled. In fact, Transfiguration was not meant to be until Thursday, and Harry hadn't been lucky enough to spot Remus anywhere about the castle. He _really_ fancied having a talk with him.

The next day at breakfast, Ron was less energetic than usual. His spirits seemed to have fallen because of all the homework McGonagall had assigned them on their first day.

"Come on," said Harry, trying to cheer him up. "Hey, remember those trolls from yesterday? How they're really ugly and stupid?"

Ron smiled weakly into his bowl of porridge.

"I'd fancy seeing a real live troll," said Seamus.

"Yeah, but not a dangerous one," said Dean. "Like a mountain troll—those are thought to be _really_ stupid."

"I'm sure you guys will see one, one day," said Harry, his eyes still on the moping Ron.

"Potter!" said McGonagall, who happened to be standing just behind him.

Harry wheeled around in his seat.

"Hello professor," he said.

"Professor Lupin is asking that you meet him in his office today at lunch," she said, her eyes narrowed at Dean and Seamus who were laughing stupidly about the trolls.

"Yeah okay," said Harry, happily. "Thanks, professor."

"Yeah, maybe Harry can get a troll to come to Hogwarts!" cried Seamus.

McGonagall's eyes widened. Harry was quick to kick Seamus hard under the table.

"HEY! WHAT DID YOU—oh, hello professor!" said Seamus.

 _How subtle_ , thought Harry.

Their first lesson that day was Charms with little Professor Flitwick, who had them revise the _Wingardium Leviosa_ spell they'd learned last year. Gryffindors had Charms lessons with the Slytherins that year, so Harry was extremely pleased to see Malfoy trotting about the classroom with his little puppy Hermione. Though, Harry was surprised to see that Malfoy pulled up a chair for Hermione and asked how she'd slept. It was really strange. How could such a peculiar kid be related to the best godfather in the world?

At lunchtime, Harry abandoned Ron and Neville in the Great Hall to go and join Remus for their first Tuesday lunch of the year. He was halfway to Remus' old office when he remembered that it was now McGonagall's office and turned to walk in the opposite direction. As a result, he was a little late. But Remus did not seem to mind. He was very pleased to see Harry again and gave him a great big hug.

"How have you been?" Harry said, taking a seat at his desk.

"Really well," said Remus, smiling brightly at him. "How was your first day as a second-year student?"

"Unexpected," laughed Harry. "But I'm glad to have Slughorn for Potions this year instead of Snape."

"Yes, that must be a pleasant change," said Remus.

"What's an _unpleasant_ change is you and McGonagall!" said Harry, suddenly.

Remus's smile faded slightly.

"How come you switched subjects?" said Harry, desperately. "You were _brilliant_ at Defense! It's my favourite subject here and you were absolutely perfect for it. Why'd you have to switch?"

"If you have checked your timetable, you will notice that Transfiguration is now an evening class," said Remus. He sighed heavily. "I don't want to alarm you Harry, but my cycles haven't really been getting any better. In fact, they're getting slightly worse, to the point where I break limbs." It was then that Harry noticed the cast around Remus' arm, which he seemed to be hiding beneath his cloak.

"You broke your arm!" he gasped.

"Yes," said Remus, "But Madame Pomfrey assured me that it'll get better soon, so you needn't worry."

"But—"

"Really Harry, I'm okay. And there is no need for you to tell your parents about any of this, alright?"

"But—"

"It'll cause them unnecessary stress…especially for Lily. Anyway, Dumbledore thought it would be best if I took the evening classes so that after my cycles, I'd have all morning to heal and therefore wouldn't need teachers to substitute for me."

"So _all_ of your classes are in the evenings then?"

"Yes, this year they are. That is just the way that Transfiguration worked out this year. We couldn't do this with Defense because it conflicted with schedules so Professor McGonagall agreed to switch with me for the year."

"That was nice of her," Harry muttered.

"Yes, it really was," nodded Remus. "Otherwise, I'm afraid I'd have had to resign." Harry looked up at him with worry and Remus sighed again. "I'm getting too old and tired for all of this."

"You're brilliant at it," said Harry, quickly. "All my friends love you. Everyone says you're the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher that Hogwarts has ever seen."

Even though Remus smiled warmly then, Harry could see through it how really miserable he was.

"Thank you, Harry," he said.

As soon as Harry got back to the common room that night, he made a point of writing a lengthy letter to Sirius, which he then sent to Hogsmeade with Hedwig. Yes, Remus had asked him not to say anything to his parents, but he'd never said anything about Sirius. The best part about Sirius being so close to Hogwarts was that Harry's letter was answered within hours. He made sure to read it when he was alone, so that Ron wouldn't find out anything about Remus.

 _Harry,_

 _I didn't know that Moony had switched subjects with McGonagall this year. I was very surprised to read that in your letter. But if he's told you that this was Dumbledore's idea, then I'm sure you have nothing to worry about as Dumbledore is aware of the full situation. Still, I'd like you to keep me informed, as you always do._

 _Oh and don't worry too much about Moony. It's been worse before, believe me. You're just lucky you weren't at school with him when he was younger. It was much worse back then._

 _Also, hope you are having a good start to your second year so far. Next year will be loads more fun when you can visit me here on weekends._

 _Say hi to Neville from me._

 _Padfoot_

Harry sighed. Well, it was definitely a short answer to his lengthy letter, but it did please him. If Sirius said it was nothing to worry about, then Harry believed him. Besides, what he'd said about Dumbledore knowing everything was actually very comforting, so Harry did not lose sleep over it any longer.

Transfiguration with Remus had turned out to be not bad. It seemed that, any subject he was given, he excelled at. Though, Harry still missed him at Defense Against the Dark Arts, it being his absolute favourite subject at Hogwarts. But nevertheless, having Remus teaching Transfiguration was better than not having Remus teaching at all. What he'd said about being old and tired had alarmed Harry a bit. He hoped Moony would not suddenly resign on him. That'd be awful.

As the days turned into weeks and October soon stepped into play, Harry and Ron were back in full-swing Quidditch practice and were starting to finally feel at home once again. During days, they attended classes. During nights, they played and joked in the common room with Fred, George and some of the other fourth years. Harry and Ron were very popular among them. And on weekends, they attended Quidditch practices and helped Ginny with her homework (they'd promised Mrs. Weasley). But the nights were absolutely the best. Harry and Ron had developed a habit early this year, of wandering around the castle grounds under Harry's father's invisibility cloak. It was loads of fun. They'd invited Neville to come along too of course, but Neville usually stayed behind or said he was tired.

"He's not acting weird again, is he?" Ron whispered as the two of them walked along the corridor on the third floor one night, dodging the Bloody Baron who'd been lurking in the corner.

"Nah, I don't think so," said Harry. "He seems fine, anyway."

"Hope he's not going to try and run away again," muttered Ron.

Harry nodded under the cloak.

"Hey, so are you going to get that new Nimbus 2001 or not?" said Ron, as they turned the corner and headed down some stairs.

"Nah," said Harry. "I have loads of brooms already—I don't need another."

"But—"

"I know, I know. You wanted me to get it so that you could ride it. You know, I could just get it for you for Christmas so you'll leave me alone already."

"Oh you don't have to do that!" said Ron quickly. Harry frowned at him. "I mean, I'm not going to make you. It's entirely up to you what you get me for Christmas. Seriously, it's your choice. _Your_ choice."

"Git," laughed Harry.

Ron punched him on the shoulder playfully and their laughs grew louder as they tripped and fell on the floor, the cloak sliding off of their shoulders and onto the ground.

"Good evening," said a voice from the other end of the hall.

Harry swore that his heart had stopped for a good two or three minutes. When he finally got to his feet to face Snape, he was as pale as the snow that would soon cover the Hogwarts grounds.

"And what brings you two out of your common rooms at a time like this?" said Snape, curiously, an evil smirk hiding in his ghostly face.

Harry made a point of carefully folding up the cloak from behind him so that Snape wouldn't see it.

"We were sleepwalking, professor!" Ron invented wildly.

Snape scoffed, his black eyes glaring at Harry again.

"You are so insufferably like your father, Potter!" he spat.

"Good," said Harry, coldly.

He heard Ron gulp nervously.

"You two have now lost your house fifty points," said Snape, suddenly. " _And_ you will be doing detentions with me tomorrow night, after dinner."

"But we have Quidditch practice!" cried Ron.

Snape glared at him, silencing Ron at once.

When they got back to their common room, they burst into laughter, waking Neville who'd been snoozing in an armchair in the corner. Hermione was sitting cross-legged on the carpet next to him, making furious notes in her notebook. She glanced up as Harry and Ron toppled over on the couches and bawled with laughter.

"What's with you two?" Neville called.

But Harry and Ron were laughing too hard to explain—so hard, that Harry's stomach began to hurt and he tried desperately to stop. He couldn't _believe_ that he had successfully hidden the cloak from Snape. That had really been a close one. He could only imagine how that conversation would have went, had Snape noticed the cloak and realised who had provided Harry with it.

On Halloween, Harry and Neville worked hard at convincing Ron that the reason Remus had fallen terribly ill at the hospital was because he'd gotten a bad case of pneumonia.

"But he's _always_ sick!" Ron kept repeating.

This was terrible. He was growing very suspicious and the more Harry and Neville lied to him, the more curious he got about why his professor was always sick at the end of the month. But Harry doubted that Ron would figure it out before Hermione did. He was a great friend but he was not very smart or bright. If Remus had not been a friend of the family, Harry doubted that he would even know about his condition. He was very good at hiding it.

The boys got to the Great Hall just in time for the big Halloween Feast, which Ginny was most excited for. She'd had a good first two months at Hogwarts and had made many friends in her year. She'd also gotten to know Hermione, who'd occasionally helped her with homework. Ron was absolutely ecstatic over this new little friendship.

As the boys found their seats and began to enjoy the amazing feast that the elves had cooked up for them, Harry overheard some gossip from the Gryffindor girls seated near him.

"Apparently, she's had another fight with him," said Lavender Brown. "She's been in the third floor bathroom all afternoon, crying."

"The one that Moaning Myrtle haunts?" asked Parvati Patil.

"No, no, that's in another corridor."

"Oh. Poor Hermione."

"Yeah, I told her she should stop being friends with him."

Harry looked round at Ron, who's also heard this gossip. He shrugged. They both turned to look at the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy was laughing with his Slytherin pals and paying them absolutely no attention. Indeed, as Harry looked around the Gryffindor table now, he saw that Hermione was nowhere to be found. What a git that bloke Malfoy was.

"Ginny," said Harry suddenly. She turned to look at him. "Could you please go and check on Hermione? She's in the girls' bathroom on the third floor."

Ron gave Harry a questioning look, but Ginny nodded and jumped from her seat to go and exit the Great Hall.

"Since when do you care about Hermione?" Ron demanded of Harry once Ginny had gone.

"Since she's a Gryffindor and we take care of our own," said Harry.

Again, Ron shrugged.

Ginny did not return for a while, which Harry and Ron guessed to mean that she and Hermione were probably talking things over like girls usually did. So they paid no attention to it and continued to devour the delicious treats that the elves had made.

Just as the ghosts were preparing to entertain the Great Hall with their annual dance, the doors to the Great Hall burst open, grabbing everyone's attention.

"T-there's," gasped little Professor Flitwick, who was wheezing out of breath. "There's…a t-troll, headmaster! In the…the…dun...geons!"

Harry eyes went wide as he looked round at Ron, Dean and Seamus, all of whom looked shocked as well. Was this just a wild coincidence? The hall of course went into a sudden panic, which Dumbledore silenced with his yell. He instructed the students to go back to their common rooms and the teachers to follow him to the dungeons.

As the boys followed the sea of students out of the Great Hall, Harry overheard Fred and George whispering.

"I can't believe they actually went and did it!" George was saying.

"Yeah, we better be careful Georgie, or we'll be replaced as chief pranksters," said Fred .

Harry grinned.

"So it was a fourth year Halloween prank," he told Ron.

"Sounds brilliant!" said Ron. "I want to go see the troll!"

"I'm sure you do, dear brother, but you will accompany me back to our common room, won't you?" said Percy, who'd happened to overhear Ron. "I promised mother I'd keep all my siblings safe and I highly doubt meeting a great big mountain troll qualifies as safe."

Ron groaned.

Laughing, Harry suddenly stopped himself.

"Ron!" he gasped. "Ginny and Hermione!"

Ron's eyes went wide and before Percy or anyone else could stop them, he and Harry ran down the hall in the opposite direction of the students.

"Get back here, both of you! Or I'll tell!" Percy yelled after them, but they ignored him and climbed up the marble steps three at a time until they finally reached the third-floor corridor.

Gasping, they looked around wildly until they finally found the right girls' bathroom. But before they could approach it, they heard loud footsteps coming from the other end of the corridor. They hid behind the wall and listened. The growling troll was moving very slowly but making the walls around him shake.

"I t-think the troll's left the dungeons!" said Ron, gulping nervously.

"You think?" said Harry, raising his eyebrows at him.

He pulled out his wand and slowly and carefully began to tiptoe after the troll, followed closely by Ron who'd also pulled out his wand. The troll seemed to be headed straight for the girls' bathroom because its door had been left opened. Great.

"Know any spells?" Ron whispered in Harry's ear.

But Harry shook his head. He couldn't think of any at the moment. All he could think of was how big that boulder the troll was carrying was. It could definitely crack a skull or two with that heavy thing. The troll entered the bathroom first, and Harry and Ron hung back, waiting. They couldn't hear anything. Perhaps the girls had left already and weren't in any danger. But then—

"AHHHHHH!"

Harry and Ron burst into the bathroom just in time to see the troll hit several different wooden stalls with its boulder, causing them to fall apart completely. Harry could see two figures crouched underneath the wood, trying to move.

"Heeeeeeeelp!" cried Hermione.

"Ginny!" yelled Ron.

The two girls moved underneath the wood as fast as they could but the troll proceeded with its attack. Harry forgot the wand in his hand completely and ran right at the troll, colliding with its boulder. He fell on top of the troll's neck and confused the poor beast, who started looking around, panicked.

"RON!" Harry yelled, but the troll had finally noticed him and grabbed him by the ankle, hanging him upside-down.

Ron picked up some of the wood that had broken apart from the stalls and began throwing it at the troll, who seemed completely immune to it and in fact didn't even notice.

"RON, DO SOMETHING!" Harry yelled louder as the troll got angrier and angrier and tried to hit him hard with his boulder. Harry twisted madly in its large fingers, trying to break free. His wand had slipped from his fingers and rolled away into some corner.

"I don't know what to do!" Ron yelled back.

"ARE YOU A WIZARD OR NOT?!" Hermione cried suddenly.

It took a second but Ron suddenly remembered. He pulled out his wand again, pointed it at the boulder in the troll's large hand—about to smack Harry—and said loudly and clearly, " _Wingardium Leviosa!_ "

The spell worked perfectly. The boulder slipped from the troll's fingers and swung at his head, just as Ron aimed his wand to do so. The troll instantly dropped Harry to the ground and began swinging around madly. Harry crawled as far back as he could, just as the troll gave one last growl and fell right on top of the wood where Hermione and Ginny were hidden.

"NOOOOO!" Harry and Ron yelled together.

They got to their feet and ran to move the wood off of the two girls trapped underneath. Ginny broke free in tears and hugged Ron tightly, while Hermione lay motionless, her leg trapped under one of the Troll's large and heavy fingers.

"Ron, she won't wake," Harry said, suddenly.

Ron gulped nervously.

"S-should we call someone?"

But before they could decide, several footsteps halted to a stop at the door and gasps ensued. Harry and Ron wheeled around to see Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Snape standing in the doorway.

"Explain yourselves!" McGonagall demanded.

"W-we just came here to warn Hermione and Ginny, professor!" said Harry, desperately. "Honestly!"

"Oh, and is it a coincidence then Mr. Potter, that I happened to hear you discussing trolls with some fellow Gryffindors a few weeks back?" said Professor McGonagall, curiously.

"I highly doubt it was a coincidence, professor," said Snape, smartly. "Perhaps Potter and Weasley thought it would be an entertaining Halloween prank."

"But how then would they have gotten the troll inside the castle?" squeaked Professor Flitwick.

"Potter seems to be a master of disguise," declared Snape, his vicious eyes soring into Harry's. "He no doubt possesses the tools to pull off such an operation."

"What?!" gasped Harry and Ron together, Ron still holding Ginny close to him as she wept.

"Professor, I swear we weren't behind this!" cried Harry.

"Then how do you explain that you two knew the troll would come here?" said McGonagall. "Why did Percy Weasley inform me a few minutes ago that his imbecile brother and friend thought it would be funny to run out of the line headed for Gryffindor Tower?"

Ron growled.

"Professor," tried Harry again, but he really didn't see what he could say to make her believe him, so he closed his mouth instead, making a mental note to give Seamus hell afterwards.

"Since we have very little evidence," said McGonagall, "We won't be writing to your families and there will be _no_ expulsions, Severus." Snape sighed. "But you two _will_ receive detentions for the next week," said McGonagall, looking back at Harry and Ron again.

They bent their heads and nodded. _Well, if you must,_ Harry thought.

They helped the professors clean up after the attack and brought Hermione and Ginny up to the hospital wing, where Ron spotted several clean, empty beds, with no Remus in sight. He gave Harry a questioning look but Harry ignored it as he watched Madame Pomfrey mend a terrible cut on Ginny's cheek. Hermione was still unconscious as she was laid on one of the beds.

"I hope you two realise that these girls could've been killed as a result of your dumb actions," McGonagall said.

Harry and Ron nodded. Whoever those fourth years that'd done this prank were, they certainly were _not_ cool.

"T-thanks for saving us," Ginny said in a small voice, after McGonagall had gone.

"Of course," said Harry.

Ron hugged Ginny again.

"You'd better not tell mum about this or she'll never let you return to Hogwarts."

"Oh believe me, I won't. I have no problem keeping secrets."

Harry thought there was a hidden meaning behind those words, and sure enough, as he looked up to meet Ginny's eyes, she winked at him.

"So," said Ron, turning to look at Harry again. "Where _is_ Lupin?"

"Dunno," said Harry, truthfully.

"Mhm," said Ron, narrowing his eyes at him.

Harry smirked, trying desperately to hide his nervousness.

Yes. _Definitely_ not the best year so far.

* * *

 _Draco_

* * *

When Professor McGonagall dropped his timetable before him at breakfast, Draco thought he'd gone blind for a second. There it was, Professor Snape's name, written clearly next to _Potions_ on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Draco rubbed his eyes a few times and read the paper over and over again, until Blaise nudged him.

"Ready to go?" he said, halfway through standing up.

"Yep," said Draco, finishing up his juice and following him.

He was so pleased, so ecstatic, so overwhelmingly excited for his first lesson of the day now. He marched right up to the classroom in the dungeons and beamed as he walked through the door and found Snape standing there at the front of the classroom, waiting. Snape did not react as Draco and his friends went to secure a table for themselves. Slytherins had Potions with the Hufflepuffs that year. Once the students were all seated, Snape turned on the charm.

"I will not accept any foolishness or silliness in this classroom," he stated, loudly and clearly.

Draco watched him with admiration. He was so pleased to finally have his favourite person in the world as his teacher. This year was going to be _very_ good.

After Snape had explained some things, he told the students to go and find their cauldrons. Draco couldn't believe it. On their _first day_ they were going to start brewing! Things certainly hadn't been this way with Slughorn. He loved this. He would finally learn a lot of useful information. If only Snape was hired as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. _Then_ it would be a party.

"Can anyone tell me the three ingredients that are most crucial for the potion we will be brewing today, the Swelling Solution?"

Draco raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" said Snape.

"They are bat spleens, dried nettles and puffer-fish eyes," he recited, perfectly.

"Very well, 5 points for Slytherin," said Snape.

Blaise high-fived Draco.

"Alright, you have until the end of the class to brew your potions for me," Snape announced. "All the ingredients are on the tables in front of you and you are to submit to me a small vile of the liquid you produce by the end of this period."

Draco opened up his book to the page with the right instructions and scanned it quickly.

 _Swelling Solution_

 _Brewing Instructions:_

 _Part 1:_

 _1\. Add 2 scoops of dried nettles to the mortar_

 _2\. Add 3 puffer-fish eyes to the mortar_

 _3\. Crush into a medium-fine powder_

 _4\. Add 2 measures of the crushed mix to your cauldron_

 _5\. Heat on a medium temperature for twenty seconds_

 _6\. Wave your wand_

 _7\. Leave to brew and return in 60 minutes (depends on the type of cauldron used)_

 _Part 2:_

 _1\. Add 1 bat spleen to the cauldron_

 _2\. Stir 4 times, anti-clockwise_

 _3\. Heat to low for 30 seconds_

 _4\. Wave your wand to complete the potions_

Draco smiled. This was going to be too easy.

Defense Against the Dark Arts with McGonagall was not as bad as Draco had imagined it would be. Though, she seemed more inclined to teach the theoretical way, which sort of annoyed Draco. And Lupin was okay with Transfiguration, but Draco was not very much a fan of the subject so he didn't really care. The only classes that he had with Hermione this year were Charms, Herbology and History of Magic, and in all three, he sat with her at the front. She hadn't changed one bit and still copied down every word that their professors uttered.

Draco and Hermione started up their evening study sessions at the library on the last week of September. They only studied for their mutual subjects together, but they also exchanged notes for the other subjects as well. Hermione's were exceedingly detailed, ensuring Draco a very good grade. While they worked, they talked about everything—muggle schools, Hogwarts ghosts, Lockhart, Sirius, Dumbledore's achievements, the Ministry of Magic…everything. And Draco found himself looking forward to their late night meetings. Hermione was unlike his Slytherin friends in that she didn't care about blood at all. But somehow, blood was all any of them wanted to talk about these days.

"My father says that the day the Dark Lord's regime fell was a terrible day for all us purebloods," said Avery one night when the boys stayed behind in the common room to play cards.

"But it was dark and scary to live at the time of the Dark Lord," said Crabbe, nervously.

"I have news for you, Crabbe," said Avery. "It's dark and scary now, especially with all these mudbloods running around."

Draco kept his eyes firmly on his cards and his mouth shut. He knew that if Avery continued on the subject, he'd burst and punch him in the face right there and then, so he concentrated hard on his cards and what move to make next. Any minute, Blaise was going to be forced out of the game and Draco would have his chances to beat Avery.

"I mean, why don't they just create a school already that's just for _them_?" Avery went on. "It'd make us purebloods feel much better and they wouldn't have anything to complain about—prejudices, prejudices. It's all nonsense, right Malfoy?"

Draco looked up and found that Avery was grinning at him.

"It's your turn," he answered flatly.

"So my good friend Marcus told me that you thought of trying out for the team this year," Avery went on, looking directly at Draco now.

Draco stared at him.

"How did you—?"

"Oh, you didn't know?" said Avery in mocked concern. "I am a beater on the team."

"Really?" said Draco, unenthusiastically.

"He's one of the best players on the team," Blaise added. Avery smirked.

"Ah," said Draco. "It's your turn still."

Avery's grin faded. He pulled a card out of his pack and threw it down on the table. Draco stared at it. That's it. He'd been locked out. Perfect. He tried to nod but his head didn't seem to move, so instead he just placed his cards openly on the table and got to his feet.

"Goodnight," he said, and disappeared up the staircase to the dormitory without waiting for any of them to respond.

He tried to go to sleep but his mind wouldn't shut off. All he could think about was what Avery had said. Why did the purebloods hate the muggleborns so much? Draco had met Hermione even before either of them knew the other was magical, and she was a perfectly fine person. And after he found out that she was going to Hogwarts, she was still a perfectly fine person. Was he supposed to hate her all of a sudden because of a label? It didn't seem right. But it _had_ been what Voldemort had wanted, though. He wanted to eliminate the muggleborn population altogether. And Snape had said that if he were around today, Draco's family would be wealthy and well off. So why then was Draco feeling like that would not be a very good thing?

He turned his head on his pillow and tried hard to fall asleep. If a creep like Avery was on the team, then what was the point of even trying out? It would only make things worse once Avery found out that Draco hung around with said "mudblood". That is, if Blaise hadn't mentioned it to him yet.

"Are you alright, Draco?" Hermione asked him about a week later when he met up with her to study for a History of Magic test.

"Fine," he said, without glancing up from his notes.

"You've been very off lately," she went on.

"I'm fine," he repeated. "Hey, what's year of the International Warlock Convention by the Medieval Assembly of European Wizards again?"

"I don't know, I haven't studied that part yet," said Hermione, shuffling through some pages in her lap. "Here, check these notes."

Draco took them from her and concentrated hard on deciphering her miniscule writing under the candle he held close.

"So I heard that the Slytherin Quidditch tryouts are next week," said Hermione conversationally, as Draco looked for the answer.

He looked up at her. Her eyes were on her paper. Had she rehearsed this or something?

"Yeah so?" he said, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Are you going to try out?" she asked, casually.

"Why do you care all of a sudden?"

Hermione looked up at him.

"Oh Draco, just because I have no interest in Quidditch doesn't mean I don't care!" she said. "Oh, and the year is 1289. I just remembered."

Draco stared at her.

"Well?" she said, raising her eyebrows.

"No," he finally said. "I don't think I'll be trying out."

"Wait, what?!" exclaimed Hermione. "Why not?"

"Let's just drop it, okay?"

"But I don't understand, Draco. You were so excited back on the train about Quidditch. What's made you change your mind?"

Draco simply shrugged in response, but Hermione was clearly not happy with it.

"I know you're going to be brilliant and you know you're going to be brilliant, so what's the problem?"

"I dunno, Hermione, I just don't think I should do it, okay?" said Draco, finally.

Hermione stared at him.

"You shouldn't give up on things just because you're nervous," she said. "You ought to take risks. Otherwise, you'll always be stuck in the same place."

And without waiting for him to answer, she closed up her book and marched out of the aisle in the library, no doubt back to Gryffindor tower, leaving Draco by himself to ponder over what the hell she had just said.

When he returned to the common room an hour later, he found Blaise sitting by the fire alone, a book propped open in his lap.

"Hey," said Draco, sitting next to him. "What are you still doing up?"

"Waiting for you," said Blaise, folding the page in his book and shutting it.

"What's up?" frowned Draco.

"I wanted to talk to you about Avery."

Draco's eyes went on fire for a split second, and luckily Blaise hadn't noticed.

"What about him?" Draco forced himself to say.

"Listen, he has nothing against you, honestly," said Blaise. "It's just his father. He works at the ministry you see, and he has to pretend that he is all for equality even though I've heard he is the biggest muggleborn supremacist there is out there."

"Right," said Draco, slowly.

"Don't take anything he says personally," said Blaise. "He just says this kind of stuff because he thinks it'll impress his father, but my parents told me his father is an impossible man to impress, so it's useless really."

"Why do you hang around this kid so much then?" Draco wondered. "He's a creepy bloke."

"True," laughed Blaise, "But I feel bad for him. You can understand that, can't you?"

Draco sighed.

"Just don't trust him too much, okay? He doesn't seem like the loyal type."

"Oh _I'll_ be careful, it's _you_ we've got to worry about," said Blaise. Draco gave him a questioning look. "Just make sure he doesn't find out that you hang around Granger, okay?" Draco opened his mouth to speak but Blaise continued. "Maybe take a bit of time off…you know, away from her. It's for your own good, mate."

"But what if I don't care what this kid thinks?" said Draco, stubbornly.

Blaise sighed.

"I thought you might say that," he admitted. "But you're in _Slytherin house_. You don't want this Avery as your enemy…he's especially close friends with Marcus and all those people. You don't want enemies in your own house, trust me."

Draco nodded in comprehension.

"Just lay low for a bit," Blaise concluded.

Draco sighed. It wasn't that bad of a request. He'd just tell Hermione he was really busy.

"Oh I see," she said angrily when he told her the next day. "So you don't want to hang around me anymore, that's it?"

"No, that's not what I said!" cried Draco. "Don't do that!"

"Do what?"

"Twist my words around like you always do!"

"Well _someone's_ got to because you don't seem to know how to communicate at all!"

Draco sighed in frustration.

"Look, I just told you that I need to cut back on these study sessions for a bit. I'm going to be really busy from now on and they're…well, they're keeping me distracted."

"Oh whatever," said Hermione, grabbing her bag from the chair. "I have to go to class now."

And she marched off, leaving Draco standing in the classroom by himself. Well, this was just perfect. Exactly what he needed. As he grabbed his own bag and left the empty classroom, he silently cursed Avery.

* * *

"Okay, just remember to stay calm and be the best that you can be," said Marcus, his eyes lingering over Draco for a split second longer than the others.

It was tryout day, and Draco and the other prospective players were standing out on the field with the Slytherin team and its captain.

"Alright, now show me what you can do!" Marcus bellowed.

The newcomers mounted their brooms one by one and soared off into the air. Draco followed. He'd never really given much thought as to which position he'd be best at playing. As far as he'd seen from his private practices back at home, he was capable of playing any position. But was he any good?

"Fly higher, Malfoy!" he heard Marcus yell as he flew on past him.

Draco flew even higher until he was on level with the goal hoops.

"Alright, here Malfoy why don't you try catching this?" called Marcus, letting go of the little golden ball in his hand and letting it fly on.

Draco concentrated hard on it and soared on after it. He was surprised and somewhat pleased with how easily it came for him to fly like this. He'd never really had the opportunity to fly in such a big open space, and he loved the feeling of his hair in the wind. It was so freeing—so unlike what he was used to.

"What are you smiling about, Malfoy?!" called Avery, who'd caught sight of Draco.

Draco did not answer him but simply dived after the little golden ball, catching it with a single attempt.

"WHOA, THAT WAS BRILLIANT!" he heard Marcus yell.

Trying hard not to smile even brighter, he let go of the golden ball and let it fly off. He waited a few seconds before he soared on after it and caught it after two minutes of chasing it.

"YEAH!" he heard Marcus cheer.

This was going too well. _Finally_ something he was good at…something he could be an expert at and no one could take away from him. He couldn't believe it had taken this long to find it, but at long last, he'd found it. And once his feet touched the ground, Marcus confirmed it.

"The new Slytherin seeker will be Draco Malfoy, effective immediately."

The few team members that had shown up patted Draco on the back and congratulated them. He muttered his thanks and tried hard to suppress a grin. Over in the corner, Avery was looking very displeased.

Draco did spend the next couple of weeks keeping his distance from Hermione. He found it a lot easier to do with Blaise keeping him busy almost twenty four hours a day. In the mornings, they ate together. Then, they went to classes together. Hermione had chosen herself different seats in all the Slytherin-Gryffindor classes—she was still mad at Draco. And then in the evenings, Draco did homework with his Slytherin friends and played late night games with them until they went to bed and did it all over again the next day. And now that Draco had made the team, he was also swamped with Quidditch practice. There really was no time to talk to Hermione.

On Halloween day, Draco was in especially good spirits. He and Blaise spent the entire day hanging out together. Avery had grown to be slightly tolerable. Or at least, he did not bother Draco as much anymore. Leaving the charms classroom in the morning, the boys walked together to Herbology. As they walked, Avery laughed. Loudly.

"His nose was _not_ that purple!" cried Draco, also laughing.

"It was _very_ purple!" said Avery, howling.

Blaise scratched his nose again.

"Alright, cut it out guys," he said, grumpily.

But the boys only laughed louder.

"You looked like a pathetic little muggleborn!" cried Avery.

Draco snorted. Just then, Hermione rushed right past him and ran down the corridor. He stopped dead in his tracks. He had not realised that she'd been walking behind them. And as he reflected on what'd just happened, he realised how bad it looked. He hadn't meant to laugh at the joke. Every word that was coming out of Avery was funny that morning and Draco simply expected the next bit to be funny so he'd automatically prepared himself to laugh. He hadn't really heard what Avery had said. Oh no, did Hermione think he was becoming like them now?

He spent the rest of the day looking for her, but she was literally nowhere to be found. It was as if she had learned apparition and left the Hogwarts grounds altogether. Draco had even sent that Longbottom toad boy up to Gryffindor tower to check if she was there, but he returned shaking his head. Draco tried hard not to let his stomach overcome him.

He came down to the Great Hall at dinnertime for the Halloween feast and met up with Blaise and the others at the Slytherin table.

"The food is excellent this year!" Goyle said, happily.

Draco smirked and began to fill his plate as well. It was indeed very good. He spent the feast talking to the guys about Quidditch and what was to be in the upcoming match against Hufflepuff. After the feast came the dessert, and then the ghosts prepared their annual entertainment piece.

"Guess what!" Blaise hissed just before they started. Draco and Avery leaned closer to listen. "Apparently, some fourth years planned a Halloween prank!"

"Cool, what kind of prank?" Crabbe wondered.

Goyle shushed him.

"We don't know for sure, but we heard it has something to do with a—"

The doors to the Great Hall burst open then, silencing everyone at once.

"T-there's," gasped little Professor Flitwick, who was wheezing out of breath. "There's…a t-troll, headmaster! In the…the…dun...geons!"

It happened very quickly. Everyone flew out of their seats and ran for the door, screaming and shouting. Dumbledore of course yelled for them to stop. He made a little speech about how they ought to be brave and go on to their common rooms while the teachers would follow him to the dungeons. Once Draco and his friends were back in the Slytherin common room, they laughed about how stupid the prank had been.

" _We_ could pull one off much better than _that_ ," Avery said.

"Yeah, for sure," said Blaise. "It didn't really do much fun except end our feast early."

"Indeed," agreed Draco.

"Oh well," sighed Avery. "Time for another game."

He got out his deck of cards and began to deal the boys in.

"How about we play for some galleons tonight, boys?" Avery suggested, smirking.

"That's not allowed!" said Crabbe, suddenly. "You could be expelled for that!"

"And who's going to tell on me?" Avery wondered.

Blaise laughed out loud.

"How about it, Malfoy?" said Avery, without looking at him.

Draco hesitated.

"Awe come on, Aves, let's not throw money in with the fun," said Blaise, suddenly. Draco was grateful he's spoken because he had absolutely nothing. How was he supposed to tell Avery that he had no money at all, and yet he still did not wish that Voldemort were around to fix the situation? Only Blaise seemed to really understand him nowadays.

It was only ten minutes into the game when one of the portraits up on the walls suddenly spoke up.

"DRACO MALFOY!" it called. Draco looked up, puzzled. The old wizard in the painting scratched his moustache and said again, "DRACO MALFOY!"

"What?" said Draco, loudly.

"Uh, there is someone outside waiting for you," said the wizard, lazily.

Draco frowned. Had Hermione decided too—?

He jumped to his feet and ran for the door, swinging it open.

"L-Longbottom?" he said in a slightly choked voice.

"Hello," said the boy. "I need to talk to you."

Draco quickly closed the door behind him so that the others wouldn't see who had come to see him.

"Have you found her?" said Draco.

"Oh yes, they found her," said Neville.

Draco held his breath.

" _They_?"

"The professors, Malfoy."

* * *

He pushed open the hospital doors frantically to find a startled-looking Madame Pomfrey standing over Hermione's bed, watching him.

"What happened?" he gasped, walking through and glancing at Hermione on the bed.

"She was attacked by that mountain troll those pranksters let in," said Madame Pomfrey. "She'll be fine, she's just resting now. You can go and see her later, I'm sure she'll be up by—"

"No, I stay here," said Draco, propping up a chair for himself and sitting by Hermione's bed.

"Mr. Malfoy, she won't be up for a while," said Madame Pomfrey, gently.

"I don't care, I'm staying," said Draco, stubbornly.

She sighed and walked away, leaving him to stare at Hermione's painfully pale face. She had a couple of stitches on her cheeks and her fingers were bandaged. The troll had also broken her leg and she would have to be on crutches for the next little while, Draco assumed. His heart pounded hard against his chest as he sat there, hours and hours passing by, watching Hermione sleep without stirring. It was _his_ fault she'd gotten attacked. It didn't even matter who'd let the troll in at this point. If he, Draco, hadn't made her cry like Longbottom had claimed she had all afternoon, she wouldn't have been in that bathroom and that troll wouldn't have attacked her!

His head bowed in his hands, he closed his eyes and thought over the last thing that he'd said to Hermione…how terrible it had been…how he'd never be able to forgive himself…and then he felt light fingers brush over his and looked up suddenly to find her smiling at him.

"Hey there," she said, softly.

"Hey," he said in a quiet voice. "Hey, how are you feeling?"

"Fine," said Hermione. "Really fine, honestly."

"Good," said Draco. He sat there, not knowing how to begin to express to Hermione what had gone on in his mind for the last hour or so. "Hermione, I—"

"No, _I'm_ sorry," she said, surprising him. "Really, I…I shouldn't have pushed you to try out when you didn't want to."

"No, but you were crying in the bathroom because of _me_ and I didn't even know it!"

"I was crying because I was being a silly little girl for a few hours, that's all."

"Yeah, but still—"

"Really Draco, it's fine. I promise. I don't want to fight."

He sighed.

"I want you to know that I really didn't think it was funny, whatever Avery said," he told her. "I mean it, Hermione. Seriously. I have nothing— _nothing—_ against muggleborns and you of all people should know that."

"I get it, Draco, it's fine," she said, smiling softly. "So, friends then?"

"Always."

"Good."

Hermione smiled again.

"What?" said Draco.

"We seem to be developing a pattern here," she observed. He frowned. "One of us winds up in the hospital and the other rushes to apologise for the fight we'd had before."

Draco smiled weakly.

"We really shouldn't fight so much," he admitted.

"Agreed," said Hermione, pleased.

"I…um, I wanted to tell you something," said Draco, blushing slightly.

"Yes?" Hermione waited.

"I um...well, I sort of...made the team," said Draco, in a very quiet voice.

"Oh, congratulations!" cried Hermione, as loudly as she could, which was not very loud. "Oh, I'm so proud of you! Good for you!"

"Thanks," Draco smiled. He looked up at her suddenly. "It's all thanks to you. You know, what you said to me that day at the library really motivated me to go and try out. I owe the world to you, Hermione. Thank you. And I promise, from now on, it's you and me."

Hermione beamed at him, and Draco relaxed a bit. To hell with Avery. No one could stop his friendship with this amazing creature before him.

* * *

 **Thanks and don't forget to review!**


	15. Year 2: Quidditch and Whispers

**A/N : This chapter took a lot longer to write than it should have. But that's what happens when you're super distracted. I'll be dropping a hint soon about the Horcruxes..one will be eliminated from the list of possible existing ones. A reminder as to what's already been eliminated from the seven: Nagini and Harry. Stay tuned...**

 **Also, I know updates are really slow at the moment. I'm currently working on two long fanfics so I'm rotating between stories, which is really hard to do. If you're interested, the other one is called _Hogwarts: Marauding the Timeline_ and it's about Draco going back to the time of the marauders. **

**Hope you enjoy this chapter**

 **Disclaimer : Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks**

* * *

CHAPTER 15: YEAR 2—QUIDDITCH AND WHISPERS

* * *

 _Harry_

* * *

"But do we _have_ to?!" whined Ron for the hundredth time that morning.

"Yes!" said Harry and Ginny together as they pulled him out of the common room and down the corridor.

"But couldn't I just send a card?" said Ron.

"No!" said Harry and Ginny.

It was the morning after the troll incident. Hermione was due to be released from the hospital wing that afternoon, and Harry and Ginny had decided that it'd be best to visit her once in the morning. They had to drag Ron all the way out of Gryffindor Tower because he really didn't want to go see Hermione.

"Look, we saved her, right?" he said as they walked past the Entrance Hall, from where the delicious breakfast of the Great Hall could be smelled. "What more does she need?"

"It's called common courtesy, Ron," said Ginny as she continued to pull at his arm.

"But—oh bloody hell, lemme go—she and I are not exactly friends."

"So?" said Harry, finally letting go of Ron's arm. "She and I are not exactly friends either."

"And I don't see anyone tugging at your robes and forcing _you_ to go," muttered Ron.

"Well, she's _my_ friend," said Ginny suddenly, "And I am asking you both to please come with me while I go visit her."

Harry nodded at Ron who grimly followed the two to the hospital wing. The minute they opened the door, they froze. Hermione's bed was the only one in the hospital wing that was occupied, and sitting in a chair next to her was none other than Draco Malfoy. The pair of them had been in the middle of eating porridge from bowls that Madame Pomfrey—the nurse—had no doubt provided, when they both looked up at the three standing in the doorway.

Malfoy instantly made a face and put his bowl down on the bedside table, looking away from Harry as he, Ron and Ginny stepped forwards.

"Hey Hermione," said Ginny, glancing over at Malfoy once as she approached the bed. "How are you?"

Hermione sat up in her bed and set her bowl aside as well.

"I'm really well," she replied, glancing behind Ginny at the slowly-moving Harry and Ron, both of whose eyes were firmly on Malfoy.

Hermione looked sideways at Malfoy who seemed to have a short, silent conversation with her. He then got to his feet, grabbed both bowls, and exited the hospital wing without a word. Harry stared after him, thinking.

"How is your leg?" Ginny asked, moving to take a seat next to Hermione.

"Oh, Madame Pomfrey said it should heal in about a few weeks' time," said Hermione, indicating the white cast tied around her left leg and wiggling her toes a bit.

"Hi," said Harry, finally turning away from where Malfoy disappeared and moving to stand at the foot of Hermione's bed.

"Hi," she answered. She looked up at Ron who stood just behind Harry, his hands in his pockets.

"Hi," he muttered.

"Hello," said Hermione. "What are you boys doing here?"

"They wanted to come with me," said Ginny quickly, before either of them could answer. "I wanted to come see you before breakfast."

"That was very kind," said Hermione, giving them all a small smile.

Harry smiled back but Ron just nodded.

"So…" said Harry.

"So…" Hermione repeated.

"We're all really glad you're okay, Hermione," said Ginny, quickly.

Hermione smiled at her and then looked up at the boys. She seemed to struggle with herself for a few seconds before she looked away.

"I want to…thank you both," she said, very quietly, "for—"

"Don't worry about it," said Harry quickly. "We're just glad you're okay—both of you."

Ginny nodded heartily.

"I can't even imagine what would've happened if…" said Hermione, in a very quiet voice.

"I don't want to think about it," said Ginny. "We're all okay—that's the most important thing."

Hermione nodded. She then looked up at the boys with some kind of tears in her eyes. Harry gulped nervously.

"But _why_ did you go after us?" she said, very, _very_ quietly.

Harry and Ron exchanged a look.

"Look, Hermione," said Harry, taking a step towards her bed. "The truth is, we both owe you an apology." Hermione's mouth dropped open. "We don't think you're a bad person—a little difficult, but not bad. And we definitely would never want to make you cry."

"But you didn't make me cry," said Hermione, but Harry ignored her.

"We're all in Gryffindor, right? We need to take care of our own. And…well at dinner, I overheard some girls talking about how you were in the bathroom all day…um…crying."

Hermione reddened in an instant and looked away from all of them.

"It's true then, isn't it?" said Harry, staring directly at her. She avoided his eyes. "It's because of him, isn't it?" He pointed at the door where Malfoy had disappeared only minutes ago and watched Hermione's eyes follow his finger.

"Why do you keep talking to him?" Ron blurted out. This time, Hermione met his eyes. She looked at both boys but didn't say anything.

"Well?" said Ron, raising his eyebrows.

"He's my friend," said Hermione, quietly.

"Some friend," scoffed Ron.

Harry tried to nudge his arm so he wouldn't be so harsh, but Ron moved away from Harry and took a seat next to Ginny on the empty bed beside Hermione's.

"Look," he said, raising his hand in the air to count off fingers. "He makes you cry every chance he gets, he gets mad at you when you talk to anyone in your own house, and he makes fun of Gryffindors despite you being a Gryffindor yourself. You call that friendship?"

"It…it's complicated," said Hermione.

"But what's so complicated about it?" Harry intervened. She looked up at him. "Did he even care enough to come find you and apologise?"

"Well he said he was going to but—"

"Exactly!" said Ron, throwing his arms in the air. "Exactly; he was _going to_ but he never got around to it because something more important came up, didn't it? That's a typical Slytherin move. You're muggle-born so you don't know that much about them; I grew up surrounded by wizards and I know all about each of the houses. My brothers have been at this school for ages. I'm telling you—it's typical Slytherin behaviour."

"And furthering this friendship will only make _you_ feel worse," Harry added, nodding along to what Ron said. " _He'll_ be just fine…it's you who's going to be broken in the end."

"Already are," said Ron, nodding at Hermione's bandaged leg.

She looked from Harry to Ron and then stared at her leg, her mouth still open but unspeaking.

"Um," said Ginny into the silence, moments later. "W-we should get going soon…classes."

"Right," said Ron, and he jumped up and went to stand by Harry. "Just…just think about it, alright Hermione?"

"Yeah, we're only saying this to help you," said Harry as they both began to move backwards to the door. Ginny followed them.

"Thanks for stopping by," said Hermione, quietly. She raised a hand and waved goodbye to them as they exited the room.

Out in the corridor, Harry gave Ron a look.

"What?" said Ron as he began to lead the way down the hall.

"Since when are you the chief of giving advice?" said Harry.

Ginny giggled.

"I dunno," Ron shrugged. "She's annoying as hell and really, really bossy. But…well it's…it's a lot of things."

"Like?"

Ron was quiet for a long time and Harry had to nudge him on the arm to get his attention again.

"Look," said Ron, stopping in the hall and moving off to the side so passer-byers wouldn't overhear. "My father told me that back in the war, the Malfoys were absolutely terrible to everyone…and they always hated us Weasleys. They were the biggest pureblood supremacists out there." Harry nodded along. He knew all of this of course; it was no news to him. "Well, think about it! Befriending an innocent, muggle-born witch…it's such a Slytherin move!"

Harry gaped at Ron.

"You think Malfoy—"

"—is going to hurt Hermione? Yeah, I do," said Ron. "He's already starting to—already has. And she's new to this world and will believe anyone who says something nice to her."

"Why don't you boys just let her be and simply be nicer to her yourselves from now on?" interjected Ginny.

Harry and Ron looked round at her and then exchanged a look between themselves.

"Okay," said Harry, nodding.

He caught Ron's eye again just before they reached the Great Hall and grinned, knowing that Ron was thinking the same thing that he was. Who would've thought that Ginny would be the smartest between the three of them?

The next couple of weeks were surely long and stretched on and on. By the end of November, Harry and Ron were on much better terms with Hermione. They said hello to each other whenever they passed by and she even offered to help them with a couple of homework assignments (but only on the nights where they were really, really desperate). The truce that they had made certainly made life a little bit easier, and Hermione seemed to have silently agreed to stop being such a bother. In fact, she'd gone all through the month of November without once losing Gryffindor house points. Ron was extremely pleased with this and even stopped annoying her just for the fun of it.

As the weeks passed, classes and Quidditch progressed really well. Harry wrote to his parents about both and to Sirius a couple of times, though not much was happening so his letters were rather short. He still continued his Tuesday lunches with Remus because that was their only time to talk really. Remus had also found a whole new level of respect for Harry after the troll incident and continued to remind him how very proud of him he was.

"I have to tell you though," Remus said on one of their lunches. "Your mother was completely shocked when she found out. James had to stop her from flooing over here to check up on you."

Harry grinned.

"If she'd done that…"

"Yes, I know, I know," said Remus, laughing. "Your reputation would be finished. That's exactly what your father was thinking—that's why he stopped her."

"I'll be forever grateful to him for that," Harry joked.

On the last Saturday of November, as Harry and Ron returned to the common room from a particularly long Quidditch practice, both of them tired beyond belief, they found a little surprise waiting there. Half the Gryffindor girls were huddled around the notice board, all of them screeching excitedly. Ginny was obviously among the girls and wasted no time at thrusting two yellow notice sheets into Harry's and Ron's arms. Tired, they collapsed on the couches by the fireplace, letting their brooms fall at their feet, and lazily read the sheets:

 _On December 10th at 6 in the evening, all defense against the dark arts students will be required to attend a special lecture in the Great Hall, given by Gilderoy Lockhart, order of merlin 3rd class, honorary member of the Dark Force Defense League and five times winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award. Please do not be late to the lecture._

 _Minerva McGonagall_

Ron groaned.

"Can you believe it?!" Ginny shrieked in his ear. "THE Gilderoy Lockhart is coming to give _us_ a lecture!"

"Oh, joy," said Harry, sarcastically.

Grinning, he and Ron both tossed their notices into the fireplace and put their feet up on the table in front of them, sighing in exhaustion.

"Rough practice?" said Neville, taking a seat next to them.

Ron nodded.

"So you've heard then?" said Harry, nodding at the yellow sheet in Neville's hand.

"Oh yes, I heard alright," said Neville, looking down at it.

"It's all the rage now, apparently," said Harry, looking round the common room at all the excited girls. "Great."

"I'm sure Professor McGonagall is just as pleased about this as we are," said Neville with a smirk as he tossed his own copy of the sheet into the fireplace.

"Do you not like Lockhart?" said Hermione as she hopped her way over to one of the couches on one foot, with a book under her arm and her eyes on Neville.

Almost instinctively, he jumped to his feet and helped her sit down as she rested her leg on the couch.

"He's alright," Neville said, shrugging, but Ron rolled his eyes and looked back at Hermione.

" _Come on,_ everyone knows he's a git!" he exclaimed.

Hermione shrugged and propped open another one of Lockhart's books in her lap, resuming her reading.

Harry looked round at Neville, who now pulled a very large book towards him and opened it in his own lap.

"What on earth is that?" Harry dared ask, looking at Neville as though he were from a completely different planet.

"It's a book about defensive magic for third year," said Neville, simply.

"THIRD YEAR?" exclaimed Ron, but Harry smiled and merely shook his head. "Blimey."

"There is no harm in looking ahead," said Neville.

Hermione nodded her agreement.

"So what are you studying now?" Harry asked.

Neville flipped the page and turned the book over to show him a terrible picture of something shady and black that seemed to be made up of all sorts of shapes.

"Ever heard of a boggart?"

"My father's an auror, what do you think?" said Harry, smirking at him.

Neville smirked back.

"How _do_ you defeat a boggart?" Ron wondered suddenly.

"You have to think of how to make it into something funny," said Neville, looking back down at the page again. "And say the incantation, 'Riddikulus'."

"Sounds like the kind of stupid magic that _Gilderoy Lockhart_ would come up with," said Ron.

Harry roared with laughter.

The next day, McGonagall confirmed the news of Lockhart's lecture with the enthusiasm of one Professor Snape. She glared at the yellow notice sheet in her hand and wrinkled her nose as though it reeked.

"As clearly mentioned here," she told the class, waving the yellow sheet in front of her. "You are required to attend the lecture, and therefore I expect to see each and every one of you in the Great Hall at 6 o'clock on December 10th. I'm sure that Mister Gilderoy Lockhart will have loads to teach you all—loads."

Hermione nodded enthusiastically and wrote down the date in her notebook. Harry laughed to himself. _As though she didn't have it already memorised_ , he thought.

"This is mad!" Ron announced at dinner two days later. "All anyone can talk about is the fabulous Gilderoy Lockhart lecture!"

"I know, right?" said Fred, taking a seat on one side of him.

"It seems the whole school has forgotten about the important stuff," said George, taking the seat on Ron's other side, "Like Quidditch."

Harry grinned at them. All that Oliver Wood had been able to talk about for two days now was Quidditch—nothing but Quidditch. _And he was sure right to_ , thought Harry. There was a crucial match coming up in just four days, between Gryffindor and Slytherin, and Harry was determined to crush Slytherin as quickly as possible.

With this their primary motivation, Harry and Ron therefore spent every second of the next four days training hard and putting their minds to Quidditch and Quidditch only. Neville had agreed to take care of their homework just for these couple of days because Harry and Ron were absolutely determined to achieve a victory on that match.

When match day finally arrived, they awoke early and went for a run about the castle with the rest of the team. Of course running didn't help much as they would be flying during the match, but it did get them energized and excited. By the time they returned to the Great Hall for breakfast, most students were already finishing up and getting ready to head to their first class. Neville knew better than to bombard Harry and Ron with information on studies or pretty much anything else. They were too psyched for the game to care about anything else. And Harry was especially excited because he could not wait to see the look on his father's face when he told him that he beat Slytherin. He did not calm down until he was on his broom, in the air, soaring forwards to catch that golden snitch. It was so close—he could practically feel himself touching it with the tips of his fingers already. And then—

"Out of my way, Potter!" yelled Draco Malfoy as he soared forwards, whirling around and beating Harry's shoulder.

"Move!" Harry yelled at him, trying to lose Malfoy's grip on him.

They struggled for several moments in the air while each tried to shove the other one out of the way. Meanwhile, the snitch was moving further and further away from them, along with Harry's long-awaited victory. Harry grew furious. It was bad enough that he had to already—or soon—share the greatest man on earth with the intolerable Draco Malfoy. But he was _not_ going to give up this victory. Not now.

"I said, _get out of the way_!" Malfoy roared, and with one last shove he reached out and grabbed the snitch. At that moment, Harry fell on top of him, having lost control of his broom. Malfoy shouted and the two collided, falling together to the ground along with their broomsticks. Just before Harry hit the ground, he felt a kind of wind sweep out from underneath him, cushioning his fall. He opened his eyes just in time to see Dumbledore lowering his wand from the teacher stand.

Harry looked around. Malfoy was struggling to get to his feet beside him. A malicious look crossed his face as he glared at Harry and suddenly, out of nowhere, launched at him. Harry fought back with all his might. What he was fighting for, he did not know. All he knew was that Sirius' face had appeared right before his eyes and that not doing something—not fighting back—was absolutely not an option. Soon, he could feel arms around him, pulling him away from Malfoy who was screaming and shouting almost as loud as Harry was.

"Getoffme!" Harry yelled, but more arms came around him and pulled him back even more.

When he finally calmed down, they let go of him and he turned around to see Fred, George and Wood looking down at him, all of them perplexed.

"What has gotten into you?!" Wood hissed through gritted teeth.

Harry looked up at the scoring board. The game had stopped. Gryffindor was down by 40 points. It was over.

"WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU TWO?!" yelled Madame Hooch as she stomped over to where they were all standing in the field.

Malfoy was still struggling against his team members and fighting hard to get his hands on Harry, who stood still, breathing heavily and glaring at his nemesis.

"It's alright, Madame Hooch, I've got this," said Wood, grabbing a hold of Harry's arm which Harry yanked away quickly.

"No Wood, _I'll_ take care of this," said McGonagall.

Oh crap.

"Potter," she said, glaring at him. He looked up at her. Ron looked very sickly as he took a few steps away from her and gulped nervously. McGonagall turned to look at Malfoy. "Detention—both of you."

* * *

"I don't understand whatever possessed you to tear at him like that!" said Wood, angrily, as he walked Harry down the corridor. "You don't seem to realise just how much you jeopardized us this season, do you?"

"Yes," said Harry, quietly.

"We had a sure win and McGonagall told me that this game won't count...BECAUSE OF YOU, Potter! Because of your fight with Malfoy!"

"I get it, Wood," said Harry, dully.

He wasn't making this any easier. As though he'd read his mind however, Wood suddenly said, "It's not my job to make this any easier for you, Potter. You're on my team as long as I say you're on my team and right now I really doubt whether I want you at all."

Harry's jaw dropped and he stopped walking to stare at his captain. No. No this. _Anything_ but this!

"Well alright, I don't mean that," said Wood, sighing. "Of course I want you on the team—but another stunt like this, and I'll have no choice, Potter!"

"I understand," said Harry, resuming the walk.

"Alright, here we are," said Wood, pointing at an ordinary classroom door. "McGonagall said that Flitwick will be waiting here for you."

"Flitwick?" said Harry. "That's who I'm serving detention with?"

"Be thankful it's not Snape," said Wood. He then turned around and walked away from Harry.

Great.

"Ah Mr. Potter," said little Flitwick as Harry came into the room.

"Hello professor," said Harry, closing the door behind him.

"Come in, come in," said Flitwick, gesturing at the chair at his desk.

Harry sunk into it and put his hands on the table, looking up at the little professor who was sitting on a large stack of books. He was scribbling quickly into a notebook and muttering incoherent words. After a few minutes of Harry simply sitting there and staring at him, Flitwick finally put down his quill and looked up at him.

"Alright, well I don't have much for you to do but there is a stack of letters just over there," he pointed at a large pile on the other end of the classroom which Harry had completely overlooked, "And I need you to sort through them."

"What are they, sir?" said Harry, getting to his feet and moving to the other end of the classroom to examine them.

"Fanletters to one Gilderoy Lockhart," said Flitwick in his tiny, squeaky voice.

Harry looked round at him with raised eyebrows.

"Mr. Lockhart will be visiting very soon and as a result, several female students have taken it upon themselves to write him fanletters."

"Mhm," said Harry, who could not believe his ears.

 _So this was his detention then_. How perfect.

"Mr. Lockhart has so kindly requested that we sort through the letters and select the best twenty, seeing as how he's a very busy man and hasn't enough time to answer all of them."

Harry grabbed a stack of letters and moved back to the desk, staring at Flitwick. He swore that those words had come out with the greatest amount of sarcasm he'd ever heard, but Flitwick simply picked up his quill again and resumed his writing. Sighing in frustration, Harry unfolded the first letter.

 _Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart,_

 _I am your absolutely number one fan_.

Oh boy. This was going to be a looooong night.

* * *

"Mr. Potter!" cried Flitwick.

Harry jumped in his seat. Several sheets of paper were stuck to his cheek which, seconds ago, was resting on the table.

"Oh," he said, pulling the sheets down and shaking his head quickly. "Sorry professor—must've dosed off."

"Dosed off, you did," said Flitwick, who looked outrage. "You'd better get a move on, Potter. It is getting late and you ought to return to your common room soon."

"Yes, sir," said Harry.

He selected a new letter out of the pile and unfolded it. He'd already picked 4 "good" letters and was looking for the lucky six others. This letter caught his interest. Actually, it woke him up completely. He smiled down at it.

 _Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart,_

 _I am not a big fan per-say, though my brothers would say otherwise, I'm sure. My mum is a much bigger fan than I am, even though I too enjoy reading your work and admire you very much for it. But it's my mum who is absolutely in love with you and I think it would mean a great deal to her if you came to visit at one point or at least arranged to meet her. She admires you so much and I think it would really mean the world to her. Oh and if you have time for the rest of us, that'd be nice too. Thanks a lot._

 _Ginny Weasley_

Harry folded up the letter, marked it with a check and placed it in the good pile without hesitation. Strangely enough, it felt like an almost automatic move. He had no idea what it was about the letter that made him very happy, but something certainly did.

"Alright," sighed Flitwick half an hour later. "You may go, Potter. But don't let those Quidditch fights happen again or we'll be back here. And I guarantee, there will be even more fanmail. The man is ridiculously—uh, I mean courageously—famous."

"Yes, professor," said Harry, suppressing a grin. "Goodnight, sir."

"Goodnight, Potter," said Flitwick. "Tomorrow will be a better day."

Harry was going to go back to the common room the usual way, but stopped suddenly when he heard the Bloody Baron fighting with someone in some corner. He turned on his heel and ran in the other direction, deciding to take the longer way through the third floor. As he walked along the deserted corridor, he thought about Ginny's letter to Lockhart. Honesty. That _must_ have been what had struck him so hard. She was so honest in the letter—she didn't use flattery or adoration. She was just extremely honest. It was incredible. And Harry smiled to himself as he thought about how proud Mrs. Weasley would be of her daughter if she knew about this letter.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Harry stopped dead in the corridor.

"HEEEEEEEEEEEELP!"

Harry quickly pulled out his wand and followed the voice, running as fast as he could.

"HHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPPPPP!"

He turned the corner and froze. Hermione was on the floor, her crutches scattered before her, her wand rolled far away. A nasty-looking python—a real live one—was hissing its way towards her as Hermione tried to crawl away.

"HEEEEEELLLLLLP!" she yelled again.

Harry ran forwards, thinking. What spells did he know? What would work on an animal?!"

" _Expelliarmus!_ " he tried, but it had absolutely no effect on the snake. All it did was catch Hermione's attention and she looked mighty relieved when she saw that Harry had arrived.

"Harry!" she yelled, moving further away from the snake as it advanced on her again. "Harry, please help me!"

"I d-dunno any spells!" Harry yelled, thinking hard. He pulled a book out of his bag and thrust it hard at the snake to distract it. Miraculously, it worked. The snake hissed violently and rounded on Harry. Harry backed away slowly, scattering his mind for a spell— _any spell_ —that might be useful in a situation such as this. But something the snake did just then caught his attention. For a split second (Harry thought his vision must be playing tricks on him), the snake had sort of dissolved and then reformed, as though about to change shape. It looked back at Hermione and then quickly at Harry. It seemed… _confused_.

And then he understood.

"HERMIONE, IT'S A BOGGART!" Harry yelled, comprehension finally dawning on him.

He could not even begin to express now how thankful he felt that Ron had asked Neville how to defeat a boggart.

He pointed his shaking wand directly at the snake and concentrated his mind as hard as he possibly could, searching his brain wildly for something funny.

"AAAAAAH!" yelled Hermione as the snake moved forwards and struck her arm.

Blood.

"HOLD ON, HERMIONE!" Harry yelled, shoving another book at the vicious beast.

It turned to look at him again and then back at Hermione, whose head seemed to be falling to the ground now. Harry resorted to the most desperate of measures he could come up with.

"RIDDIKULUS!"

The snake instantly transformed into a half-snake half-Dudley in infant form. Despite the seriousness of the situation (and the great amount of adrenaline that had just hit Harry), he found the sight absolutely hilarious and could not suppress a chuckle. That was just what was needed to cause the snake to explode right before his eyes, several pieces falling all around.

Harry breathed as hard as he could as he tried to comprehend what had just happened. Hermione lay on the floor across from him, her eyes shut and her head rested on the stone-cold floor. Several footsteps could be heard approaching now, and Harry's wand began to shake in his hand. The students came from all corridors and stopped quickly once they noticed what had happened. Many yelled or gasped in shock and some began to even whisper. Harry saw Ron move to the very front and frown first at him, then at Hermione, and then at the snake carcass on the floor. His eyes widened and a look of disgust crossed his face.

Harry looked round at the various faces standing before him, all of them watching him with something he could not quite grasp just yet. What _on earth_ was happening?!

"Harry!" yelled Ginny, who'd also moved to the front. "Are you alright?!"

Her eyes fell on Hermione and she quickly covered her mouth with her hands so as to stop herself from screaming.

"What is going on here?!" cried McGonagall as the crowd parted ways to let her through.

She gasped as the sight of Hermione and then pointed at Harry with a shaking hand.

"What have you…" she breathed, looking ghostly white.

"Professor!" cried Harry. "I _swear_ , it wasn't me! A-and when she wakes up, she'll confirm it!"

"This is an _outrage_ , Potter!" cried McGonagall.

She looked round at all the other students and then her eyes fell on Harry again.

"Take her to the hospital wing now," she demanded. "And when she is in the hands of Madame Pomfrey, you are to report to my office…immediately."

"Yes, ma'am," said Harry, quietly.

McGonagall tried to wave some of the other students away but no one seemed to want to move away from the scene. So, she pulled out her wand and cleaned up the snake carcass as quickly as she could before storming away from the hall. Ron rushed over to Harry's side immediately and helped him get Hermione to her feet.

"Ugh, does she always have to be unconscious when we find her?!" moaned Ron as together, he and Harry picked Hermione up and threw her over Harry's shoulder.

"Ron, grab the crutches," said Harry, pointing at the set that had fallen a few feet away.

He ignored the way the students watched him as he and Ron made their way through the crowd to the hall that would lead them to the hospital wing…

…again.

* * *

"So what did McGonagall say then?" said Ron once Harry was back in the common room after his meeting.

"She said she's going to be talking to my parents soon," said Harry, dully.

"Not good," said Neville, frowning.

"Why?" said Harry.

"Harry, you don't get it, do you?" said Neville, leaning forwards and looking him in the eyes. "First, a troll comes into the school and _you_ seem to be the only one that remembers Hermione is somewhere else. _You_ save her and she walks around on crutches for the next couple of weeks. Then, a snake is set loose and again, _you_ happen to be around just as the snake prepares to attack Hermione. No one sees any of this happen and when students arrive, Hermione is lying unconscious at _your_ feet."

"What are you saying?" said Harry, heatedly. At this point, Ron looked almost as befuddled as he was.

"Harry, it looks really, _really_ bad," said Neville, concerned. "There are going to be whispers now and—"

"I don't care how it looks!" cried Harry. "I haven't done anything wrong! And besides, Ron was there too the night of the troll incident!"

"You know gossip doesn't follow and abide by laws and rules," said Neville, shaking his head. "People believe what they want. My god, you're so _naïve!"_

"What are you talking about?" said Ron.

"Don't you realise how badly this is going to turn out, come tomorrow morning?" said Neville, looking from one to the other with great incredulity. Harry and Ron shook their heads. "Let me paint you a little picture. Just after you carried Hermione away, I heard a Slytherin student say 'Potter, the Boy Who Conquered? More like the Boy Who Murdered'."

"BUT I HAVEN'T MURDERED ANYONE!" yelled Harry, completely outraged. He was on his feet now, glaring down at Neville. Was he saying this just to get a rise out of him? Well, that was bloody supportive.

"I KNOW!" yelled Neville, jumping to his feet too so that he was levelled with Harry. "But Harry, it's how it _looks_ to everyone who wasn't there! And the fact that it was Hermione, of all people, really makes this worse!"

"What do you—"

"She's _muggle-born_!" cried Neville. "How can you not see it?"

"So what, they're all going to think he's after muggle-borns now?" said Ron, incredulously.

"That's exactly what they're going to think," Neville confirmed.

"But—" said Harry.

"And the fact that you're famous is not going to help your case," Neville added. "People love gossip—they love stories. Ever since the fall of the Dark Lord, things have been really quiet on your front. They'll pick up on anything to bring you to the news once again."

"They can't do that, can they?" said Ron, looking almost as outraged as Harry felt.

"They can do whatever they want," said Neville. "Gossip and rumours have no set limitations."

"That's a frightening thought," Ron muttered.

But Harry's head was elsewhere already. Neville was right. With Voldemort gone, the excitement had died around him. And the hungry little beasts were going to feed on any story pitched to them. He could just imagine the panic and excitement that would spark now: Harry Potter, the boy who conquered the Dark Lord, turns dark himself and chases after muggle-born witch.

Where was Sirius when he needed him?

* * *

 _Draco_

* * *

When Potter and his mates had left the hospital wing early in the morning next day, Draco returned to help Hermione out of bed. He collected her things and helped her on her crutches. Just as they were about to exit the hospital wing, Longbottom showed up with a few slices of toast wrapped up in a napkin.

"Hello," he said.

"Hey Neville!" exclaimed Hermione. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I heard you're getting out today so I thought I'd come by and help," he said.

"Well, as sweet as that was, I got it," Draco muttered.

"Maybe," said Longbottom, "But you have no access to our common room and I do."

Hermione looked sideways at Draco and gave him a warning look.

"That is very nice of you to offer, Neville," she said, turning back to him. "Thank you."

"It's no problem," he said, smiling. "Oh and by the way, I brought this for you." He held out the wrapped toast and offered it to Draco. "I figured you'd be hungry since you skipped breakfast."

Hermione's smile brightened.

"Um," said Draco, who really hadn't expected this. "Thanks but I actually ate already." He could feel Hermione's eyes on him and cleared his throat. "I mean, Madame Pomfrey fed us both." Silence. He reached out and took the toast. "I mean, thanks."

"You're welcome," said Longbottom. "Shall we?"

"Yes, let's go," said Hermione, and they both helped her out of the hospital and led the way to Gryffindor tower.

It was the most awkward walk that Draco had ever known. In fact, he'd never known that such an awkward walk could actually exist. They had to walk even slower because of Hermione, so what would usually be a 10-minute trip to the tower turned into about a half hour wasted away. During that time, Hermione nervously glanced between the two silent boys and continuously attempted small talk to get them to notice each other.

"I personally think that the whole sorting thing is stupid really," she said, once they'd finally reached the tower and began to slowly climb up the steps. "I mean, all it does is just get students to rival against each other."

"It creates competition," said Longbottom. "If we didn't have houses, we wouldn't have Quidditch matches and house points and such."

"I could live without it," Hermione muttered.

"Speak for yourself!" said Draco, helping her up on the last step.

At long last, they were standing in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady and Longbottom was giving her the password.

"Could you just give us a second?" Draco said to him as he turned around to help Hermione in through the portrait hole.

"Um, sure," said Longbottom, shrugging.

Draco waited until Longbottom figured out what he meant and moved away to give them some privacy. Draco turned to Hermione and grinned.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said. "What are you playing at?"

"Nothing," he said, innocently. "I just don't want him around us all the time."

"But he's my friend!" she protested.

"So?" said Draco, raising his eyebrows. "He's not _my_ friend, and you don't see me bringing Blaise or Avery to trot along."

"That's different," said Hermione, but her expression told Draco that she was not interested in arguing about this right now, so he decided to drop it.

"Alright, here's your stuff," he said, handing the light bag to her.

"Thanks," she said, taking it in her hand. "I'll see you later then."

She motioned for Longbottom to come and he helped her in through the portrait hole, leaving Draco to stand by himself in the corridor, watching after them as the door closed again.

"Can I help you with something?" the Fat Lady asked him serenely as he continued to stare at her, minutes after they had disappeared.

"No," he muttered, turning his back on her and heading back to his side of the castle.

Another thing Hermione had neglected to mention… houses made for sides of the castle. And somehow, it felt very unnatural for a Slytherin to be anywhere near Gryffindor Tower.

The next couple of weeks sure seemed to fly on by. Draco made a point of helping Hermione walk wherever she needed to, with the exception of her own common room for obvious reasons. But that's where Longbottom took over, which at least Draco was grateful for, even though he didn't quite understand it.

"He's very shy and lonesome," Hermione explained one night at the library. "And since I'm not very popular with my fellow housemates either, I suppose we have that bit in common."

"Hey whatever," said Draco. "It doesn't matter to me—I was just asking."

Hermione gave him a sharp look but said nothing. She had certainly been acting somewhat different as of late, and Draco strongly suspected that it had something to do with what Potter and Weasley might have told her, that day they visited her in the hospital. He was almost 100% sure that they'd talked about him. Why else would they be visiting her? It's not like they'd ever cared about her before. Why now?

"So you've certainly been spending more time with Avery," Hermione said, conversationally.

Draco looked up at her.

"Yeah," he said, slowly.

"I've just noticed," she said, shrugging. "I thought you said you didn't like him much."

"He's alright," said Draco. "I…well, I didn't really know him before."

"I see," said Hermione. "Now you know how I feel." Draco frowned at her. "About Harry and Ronald, I mean."

"Oh right," said Draco, sarcastically, "Because this is totally like that."

"It is," said Hermione, simply, "Whether you like it or not."

Draco grunted into his book.

On the last week of November, something definitely strange happened. Draco received a package from one of the school owls. He ran up to his dormitory to open it with shaking hands. He couldn't think of anyone who would send him something. He unveiled the package to reveal a brand new quill. And it wasn't just any quill—it was one of the better ones. They were supposed to be _really_ expensive. He'd only ever seen Hermione using one like this. He turned the quill around in his hands and admired it. He then looked down at the package but there was no note. Who could possibly?—and then it hit him. His father. Of course! He had obviously had a chat with Draco's mother and had decided to buy Draco presents to make up for his behaviour all this time. Draco smiled down at the quill and placed it on his bedside table. He then picked it up again, unrolled a bit of parchment, dipped the quill in some ink and began to write:

 _Dear father,_

 _I love it. Thank you so much. And to prove that I love it, I'm using it right now to write this letter. Hope you and mother are well. I'll write again soon._

 _Draco_

Feeling overwhelmingly pleased, he rolled up the parchment and headed off to the owlry to ship it. This had to be probably the best day he'd had in a long time.

Draco had a considerably good couple of Quidditch practices and felt surely ready for that crucial upcoming match against Gryffindor. Quidditch had also given him a whole special connection with Avery that the others could not understand. Every night, they returned to the common room laughing their heads off over something, and when Blaise, Crabbe or Goyle asked what was so funny, they would exchange a knowing look and say, "Nothing".

Draco really enjoyed spending time with Avery. He realised that they'd gotten off to a rather odd start and that there was so much about the boy that he didn't exactly like, but they had loads of fun together so Draco was easily able to put off all the rest and not let it bother him. Besides, no one in Slytherin had mentioned anything about muggle-borns in front of Draco in a while, so he had no problem discarding it completely.

After one of their particularly successful rehearsals, Draco and Avery returned to the common room feeling very pleased with themselves. Blaise and the others were sitting by the fire, building a castle out of cards. Draco slumped on the couch and closed his eyes. Match day would most definitely be a glorious day for him. He could already taste it now.

"What you smiling about?"

Draco opened his eyes to find Blaise smirking at him suspiciously.

"Nothing," said Draco, smirking back.

"Oy, so we're skipping this stupid Lockhart lecture, right?" said Avery, and he tossed the yellow notice reminder at Draco who skimmed it with distaste.

"If we can manage it without detention, then I'm in," he answered.

"I'm sure we'll figure something out," said Avery. "Now, about that prank…"

"What prank?" said Draco.

"We've been trying to come up with something to counter that pathetic troll prank from Halloween," Blaise explained.

"Mm," said Draco, shutting his eyes again and resting his head on the couch. "So any luck?"

"So far, we've come up with bringing some kind of a creature into the school to frighten the first years," said Blaise, casually. "But we can't think of what…"

Draco's eyes flew open and he stared at Blaise.

"Aren't you a _Slytherin_?" he exclaimed. The others looked at him. "It's obvious, isn't it? A SNAKE!"

Avery let out a bark-like laugh.

"That's brilliant, Draco!"

"But how do we bring a live snake into the school?" said Crabbe, looking a little worried.

"Calm yourself or you'll wet your pants again," Avery told him.

Draco laughed out loud but Crabbe just grew even more worried.

"Relax Crabbe, we're only joking!" said Blaise.

Crabbe relaxed a bit but Goyle suddenly looked very nervous himself. What gits.

The day of the Quidditch match, Draco was surprised to find Snape sitting in the stands with the other teachers. He usually avoided every match he could, but for some reason, he had showed up today. Draco smiled up at him, though he wasn't sure if Snape had seen, and then high-fived Flint before mounting his broom and getting in the air. Something was telling him that this was going to be an extraordinary day for him.

When the whistle blew, Draco sped forwards, searching frantically for that snitch. He could see Potter doing the same from afar, though he was struggling to fly faster than Draco because his broom was the newest and fastest model yet. Draco smirked at the thought of all the jealousy raging in Potter, and flew even faster. But then Gryffindor scored again and then again and Draco found himself slowing down and watching the goal post. Should he help Flint out? He seemed to be flying out of control, unable to stop the Quaffles as they sped past him and through the goal hoops.

Suddenly, a flash of red zoomed on by Draco and he whirled around just in time to see Potter reaching out to grasp the snitch. Draco acted fast and soared forwards, beating him on the shoulder.

"Out of my way, Potter!" he yelled, but Potter seemed just as angry as he was and just as anxious for a victory.

"MOVE!" he yelled back, trying to wriggle his arm free as Draco held it even harder.

They struggled for several moments in the air while each tried to shove the other one out of the way. Meanwhile, the snitch was moving further and further away from them, and the shouts from the crowd were growing louder and more vicious.

"I said, _get out of the way_!" Draco roared, and with one last shove he reached out and grabbed the snitch. At that moment, he felt something hit him hard and suddenly realised he had lost control of his broom. He shouted, felt himself collide with Potter, and the next thing he knew they were falling. And falling. And falling. Just before he hit the ground, he felt a kind of wind sweep out from underneath him, cushioning his fall. He got to his feet and looked around with vicious eyes until he saw Potter, struggling to stand up as well. Suddenly, a hot boiling ball of anger filled him up inside and he launched at Potter. He hit him as hard as he could—he hit every part of his body that he could and drowned out all sound, focusing on nothing but the boy in front of him, who was also fighting back. Hard. Soon, Draco felt arms grabbing him and pulling him away from Potter who was screaming almost just as loudly as he.

"WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU TWO?!" yelled Madame Hooch as she stomped over to where they were all standing in the field.

Draco was still struggling against the arms that were pulling him back and he was fighting hard to get his hands on Potter. But he had now calmed down and stood still, breathing heavily and glaring back at Draco.

"It's alright, Madame Hooch, I've got this," said the Gryffindor captain, and he grabbed a hold of Potter's arm, which Potter yanked away quickly.

"No Wood, _I'll_ take care of this," said McGonagall. "Potter," she turned to look at Draco. "Detention—both of you."

After McGonagall and Madame Hooch had talked, they sent everyone back to their change rooms. McGonagall came up to Draco and told him that he was expected in Lupin's office that night. Draco scowled at her but nodded his understanding. When he returned to the change room, Flint yelled. A lot. Everyone else sat there, watching. It was _humiliating_.

After it was all over, Avery grabbed a hold of Draco and pulled him away from there. They walked back to the common room in silence and collapsed on the couches by the fireplace, where Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle were already waiting.

"What happened back there?" Blaise asked, looking concerned.

Draco thought. What _had_ happened? It was very odd, the way that anger had boiled up inside him, completely out of nowhere. He really hadn't anticipated it and now that he thought about it, that fight had definitely not been worth a detention. What on earth had happened back there?

"I…just lost control," he answered Blaise, his eyes peering into the flames crackling in the fire in front of him.

Avery sighed.

"It's fine—there'll be more matches."

"Yeah, but at least you guys won this one," said Crabbe.

Avery shook his head.

"McGonagall said this match is not going to count," Blaise explained.

"Oh," said Goyle, looking sad now.

Draco put his head in his hands. How could he be so stupid? How could he let this happen? It was all his fault. He wouldn't be surprised if tomorrow Flint kicked him out of the team for it.

"It's fine—we'll have lots more to look forward to," said Avery. "Okay, Draco?"

Draco looked up at him and sighed again, nodding.

"I think you'll feel a lot better after your detention," he told him.

Again, Draco nodded. He was still kicking himself for having let this happen and not really paying attention to what Avery was saying to him.

He spent a little time with them by the fireplace and then went and changed out of his Quidditch robes before heading out to meet Professor Lupin. He found his classroom quickly, though paused before entering. This would be the first time he was one-on-one with the peculiar professor. He hadn't ever bothered talking to him before and he knew that Lupin was closest with Potter, of all people. How brilliant. He scowled at the door before entering the classroom. If only it were Snape instead…

"Ah, hello there, Mr. Malfoy," said Lupin as Draco closed the door behind him.

"Hello professor," he muttered.

"Come in, have a seat there," said Lupin, gesturing at the chair across from his own. Draco sat at his desk and put his bag down.

In front of him lay 6 neat rows of about twenty or thirty envelopes each, all of them addressed to the same person. Draco frowned down at the envelopes as Lupin took his seat across from him.

"What are these?" Draco asked.

"Fan letters," said Lupin.

Draco looked up at him and found the professor smiling at him.

"Mr. Lockhart has kindly requested that, upon his arrival here at Hogwarts for the defense against the dark arts lecture, we sort out the top forty letters that he will answer."

"Wait a second— _this_ is my detention?" cried Draco.

Lupin frowned at him.

"Well, if you'd rather clean the trophy room with Mr. Filch, then—"

"No, this is good!" said Draco, quickly. "I was just—um, never mind. So what do I do?"

"Well, your job is to read each letter and use your better judgment to decide which one makes the good pile. _My_ job is to fold them back up and replace them in their envelopes."

"Y-you're going to help me?" said Draco, a little surprised.

"Yes, I think I will," said Lupin, smiling up at him again.

Draco returned the smile (only a little though) and opened the first letter.

For the first little while, they worked in complete silence, with the folding of papers and the ticking of the muggle clock on the desk being the only sounds. But Draco soon got bored with this useless task and began focusing his mind on other things—like the professor sitting in front of him. It was only now that Draco finally realised that the professor's scars had _tripled_ since last time he'd been this up-close to him. Lupin noticed Draco's eyes at him and looked up. Draco quickly looked back down at the letter he was supposed to be reading.

"Something the matter, Mr. Malfoy?" Lupin asked.

"Nope, everything is fine," Draco said, casually.

When the professor resumed his work, Draco snuck another look at him. The scars seemed to trail all the way down to his neck, and he was sure— _so_ sure that in fact he'd bet his new Nimbus 2001 on it—that if he were to roll up those sleeves, he'd find several scars trailing along there as well. It was quite strange. He couldn't think of anything that would make a person receive that many scars.

"Professor?" he decided to ask, several moments later. Lupin looked up at him. "Um…" Draco felt himself blushing slightly. "I was just w-wondering why you switched to Transfiguration this year."

Lupin looked slightly surprised by this question but nevertheless smiled.

"It fit my schedule better than defense against the dark arts did, I'm afraid," he answered.

Draco nodded.

"I was just…" he said, in a rather quiet voice, "Well… I mean you're always sick. I was just wondering w-why is that…?"

Lupin hesitated before answering.

"I have a condition—one that I've had for a long time now—and it causes me to be sick a fair bit often."

Draco looked at the scars again, and catching him, Lupin adjusted his cloak so that it covered most of his neck.

"A-are they part of the…condition?" Draco wondered.

"Yes and no," said Lupin. "I'm just naturally reckless. Now, we should probably get back to work, shall we?"

Draco nodded and looked back down at the letter in his hands. He skimmed through it quickly and then tossed it in the bad pile. He then extracted another letter and unfolded it. His heart skipped a couple of beats. Why was he even surprised at all?

 _Dear Mr. Lockhart,_

 _I can't even begin to tell you how pleased I am that you have chosen our school, out of all others, to give your lecture. I'm sure that whatever it is about, it'll be very informative and I simply can't wait. I've of course read all of your books and I know most of them off by heart. I admire you so much for all the wonderful things that you've done as a wizard and I hope to grow up one day to be an extraordinary witch and do wonderful things just like you. Thank you so much for contributing to our community so much._

 _With lots of love,_

 _Hermione Granger_

 _P.S. I'm sure you'll win the Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award next year as well!_

What a typical girl, thought Draco. He smirked and put the letter in the good pile. There was no way he was going to pass up the chance for Lockhart to read this letter. And Hermione would no doubt kill him later if he didn't put it in the good pile.

He soon grew bored with it and found himself watching the professor again. And of course, he noticed.

"You alright, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked again.

Draco looked away from his scarred face and nodded.

"Is something on your mind?" Lupin said.

"No," said Draco, selecting another letter from the pile and unfolding it.

Oh how he so wished that Potter was doing the very exact same thing as him at this very moment. This had to be the stupidest detention he'd ever heard of!

"Have you spoken with Sirius?"

Draco had to think twice before he spoke next. He looked up at Lupin and scanned his face. Lupin smiled at him.

"No, you didn't imagine it," he said. "I actually asked you."

"Huh?"

"I said, have you spoken with Sirius?"

"N-no…"

"Why not?"

Draco stared at him. He really hadn't expected this sort of open interrogation and quite frankly had no idea how to respond.

"Are you not interested in speaking with him?" Lupin went on, with a serious but kind look on his face.

Draco watched him for a long time before answering. He was not like the other teachers. He really wasn't. He had a different sort of energy around him—he really wanted to _understand_ the students and seemed to be able to do it easily. He also didn't seem to mind sharing personal things about himself when students asked. Sev would no doubt have told a student to bugger off if they asked him these questions.

"He's a stranger to me," Draco finally replied. "I've only recently found out about him."

"Yes, he told me," Lupin said, and when Draco gave him a questioning look, he quickly added "He told me about _Flourish & Blotts_."

"Ah," said Draco, nodding his head once. "So…w-what is Sirius like?"

Lupin looked as though he'd been expecting this question because he smiled deeply and put his quill down.

"He is one of the best people I know to this day, and I've known quite a fair number of people. He is one of the few who haven't changed one bit since their schooldays. Oh yes, we were best friends when we were here at Hogwarts and still are today. I was…going through a lot back in my schooldays, and my best friends were the closest people to me. Sirius was always one to help, especially when I requested that he stay out of something. He is as stubborn as you can get and will never stand aside and watch others suffer." Draco nodded. "When the war began, he was enthusiastic about helping and of course joined Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix—uh, it was an organisation with the aim of fighting the Dark Lord and his followers. Sirius was definitely one of the more enthusiastic members and took his job very seriously."

"What does he do now?" Draco wondered.

"Well, he has a pub down in Hogsmeade and he lives just above it so it's definitely convenient. But until recently, he has been refereeing for a famous Quidditch team…you will no doubt have heard of them—"

"Sirius lives in Hogsmeade?" Draco interrupted.

"Uh y-yes…I thought you knew."

"How could I? My only source of information is my mother and she and Sirius aren't exactly best friends at the moment."

Lupin's face suddenly grew very serious and he even leaned forwards, looking Draco directly in the eyes.

"Draco," he said, in a lowered voice. "If you want to talk to Sirius, no one can stop you—I trust you know that." Draco nodded. "I understand that all these family complications have made it difficult for you, but it doesn't have to be this way. No one—I repeat, _no one_ can stop you from reaching out to him. You are old enough to decide for yourself."

"I understand," Draco said.

* * *

It was already significantly dark out and Draco was tired and hungry as a wolf when he finally left the classroom at just after 9 o'clock. He walked along the deserted corridors with his hands in his pockets and his head bowed, thinking. Something about the way Lupin had answered the question about his scars made Draco feel slightly uneasy. What sort of condition would require someone to be sick so often and turn up with all these terrible scars and scratches? Just how reckless could a person get? And why was Draco getting the distinct feeling that there was very little truth to the answer the Lupin had given him?

He suddenly froze in the corridor. His heart skipped a beat or two and he thought he felt a ghost swoosh on past him. He looked around. Nope, he was quite alone. But the idea that had just crossed his mind seemed to be shouting at him angrily so that he wouldn't be able to ignore it. He thought again. Hermione. That's who he needed. He needed to find Hermione. Fast.

He sped up until he reached the Entrance Hall and made to climb the stone steps when he stopped himself. It was way past curfew and she would be up in her common room by now. Even if he managed to get her to come out for a little chat, he'd most likely be caught by a teacher on his way to the dungeons and score himself another detention. He knew he wouldn't be able to handle any more letters from that slimey Lockhart git. And so, Draco turned around and headed for the dungeons instead. There was always tomorrow.

"You're back!" Blaise exclaimed once Draco had entered.

"Hey there," said Draco, dully.

The boys were all sitting on the carpet (Crabbe and Blaise were playing Wizard's Chess) and looking extremely nervous about something.

"How was detention?" Blaise asked. "By the way, we snatched up some food for you. We figured you'd be hungry, there you go."

He handed Draco a plate with a slice of lemon pie on it. Draco nodded his thanks and took the plate in his hands. The smell was so delicious and made him realise just how hungry he was. He dug right in.

"S-so, how was detention?" Blaise asked again.

"Fine," said Draco, with a mouthful of pie. He ate in silence for the next few minutes before finally looking up at the others, all of whom were watching him intently. He swallowed. "What're you all so quiet about?"

"You haven't heard?" said Avery, looking very serious.

Draco looked round at the boys and slowly shook his head, the plate of pie lowering in his hands.

"Your friend Granger's been attacked," said Blaise.

Draco sat up immediately and looked from one boy to the next, hoping one of them would start laughing and say it was all a joke.

"What d'you mean?" he breathed after a moment's silence.

"She just _had_ to be there to make the snake appear," said Avery, shaking his head in disapproval.

"What snake?" said Draco.

"It doesn't matter," said Blaise, quickly, before anyone else could answer. "She was unconscious for just a little bit but I've heard that Madame Pomfrey's managed to wake her up. She's just bandaging her arm now but I don't think she'll be staying overnight."

"What snake?" Draco repeated, his eyes glaring at Avery now.

Avery stared back at him and did not crack a smile.

"Well, we said we were going to do _something_ , didn't we?" he finally said, in a simple tone. "Don't worry, we weren't crazy enough to bring a live animal into the castle. We just settled for a boggart. We planned it out perfectly, too. Now that we were sure Potter was going to be coming back from detention, we decided to set it loose in that corridor so that he would run into it and maybe scream like a little girl when something pathetic turned up. But your friend Granger got there first. Huh, funny how it turned out though, isn't it? Ironic even, that your friend Granger is frightened of snakes and that's the shape the boggart chose to turn into. It's almost as if it were meant to—"

"Are you _mad?!_ " barked Draco, fury building up in his chest now.

Avery raised an eyebrow at him.

"Hey, _you_ were the one who suggested the snake in the first place, if you don't remember."

"I WAS JOKING!" yelled Draco, getting to his feet now. "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!"

"Relax, Malfoy," said Avery, standing up too. "Your girlfriend is perfectly fine—it was only a boggart. Besides, that Potter bloke came and got her so you're okay."

Draco had to stop himself from kicking Avery right then and there, because an image of Hermione lying unconscious on the floor popped into his mind, and before he knew it, he was running out of the common room, ignoring Blaise calling after him. He sped through the dungeons and hurried past the Entrance Hall to the steps leading to the hospital wing, when suddenly he stopped because of something he saw from the corner of his eye. He turned around and found Hermione slowly limping her way through some corridor on crutches.

"Hermione!" he yelled, running towards her.

She looked up at him and gave a small smile. Draco quickly put one of her arms over his shoulder so he could support her.

"What on earth happened?" he demanded as they began to walk a little faster than she had managed on her own.

"I was looking for you because I wanted to talk about what happened during the match today," she explained. "Neville told me you were serving detention with Professor Lupin so I was headed to his classroom when this snake—this real, live snake—just came out of nowhere! Only it wasn't a snake—I later found out that it was a boggart. Anyway, I tried to reach for my wand but I lost balance on my crutches and fell. And my wand rolled off."

"But how did you manage to get away?" said Draco, desperately, as they both turned a corner and he supported her on the steps.

"Harry came," she answered.

Draco raised an eyebrow at her.

"He heard me calling for help—I assume he was coming back from his own detention. I don't remember much of what had happened because the snake did bite my arm and I think I lost consciousness then, but—"

"You're most frightened of _snakes_?" Draco interrupted.

Hermione hesitated.

"They creep me out," she said, quietly.

"You do realise your best friend's house symbol is a snake, don't you?" said Draco.

"Oh so what? I don't care!" she said. "You really think I'm all that fond of lions either?"

"What's wrong with lions?"

Hermione raised her eyebrow at him.

"Oh, so now you're defending lions?"

"I'm not—ugh, never mind."

Hermione's laugh echoed through the tower.

"Blimey," said Draco, shaking his head at her as they finally reached the correct corridor and stopped in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady. "You have a knack for getting attacked lately, Hermione."

"Tell me about it," she sighed. "It's not like I go looking for trouble."

"No, trouble just seems to somehow look for you," said Draco.

Hermione chuckled lightly.

"Anyway, thanks for getting me up here," she said. "Who knows how long it would've taken without you?"

"I'll always be here to help, you know that," said Draco. "Besides, I was looking for you earlier too—I wanted to ask you something."

"What is it?"

"Nothing now—it doesn't matter anymore. Listen, do me a favour and don't wander around anymore, okay?"

"But—"

"I know, I know, you were looking for me, but Hermione, it's…just…look, _I'll_ find _you_ next time, okay? I will, I promise. But don't go wandering around on your own, especially when you're on crutches and defenseless…and _especially_ in the night. Okay?"

Hermione sighed in frustration.

"Yes, sir," she muttered.

"Good," said Draco. "Now go on. Goodnight."

"Night."

He watched her disappear through the portrait hole and then turned around and walked as quickly as he could to get out of that tower. As he hurried to make it back to his common room without getting caught, his heart raced. She'd gotten attacked _again_. And it was partially his own fault for feeding this pathetic idea to his friends. How would he ever be able to live with himself if Hermione got hurt beyond healing?

* * *

 **Please stop the hating on Harry. I'm not saying this for me, I'm saying this for you, coz you will feel really shitty after you read what will happen to him later. Well, that is if you have a heart. I kid. Not sure when the next chapter will be released but hopefully soon. The Lockhart lecture will be oh so funny.**


	16. Year 2: Talks and Ghosts

**A/N : I've updated two chapters for my other fanfic, which means it's time to update this one! Hope you all enjoy this EXTREMELY long chapter and the next one will be updated... hmm...let's say, TOMORROW. You're welcome **

**Disclaimer : Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks**

* * *

CHAPTER 16: YEAR 2—TALKS AND GHOSTS

* * *

 _Harry_

* * *

 _Last week, a frightening incident occurred at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the second time this school year. Hermione Granger, a second-year student at the school, found herself in a life-threatening situation for the second time in under 2 months, when she came face-to-face with a real boggart that had been set loose in a third floor corridor. Granger was hospitalised immediately, due to her already injured leg from the troll incident back on Halloween, and so she was unavailable for comment. However, Daily Prophet reporters were able to get quotes from a few students who swore they'd seen what had happened._

 _"It was Harry Potter!" exclaimed a vivacious Hufflepuff girl by the name of Hannah Abbott. "Everyone thinks it's highly coincidental that he happened to be there on the night of the troll incident as well!"_

 _The Boy Who Conquered, also son of James Potter, Head of the Auror Department, was in fact present on both days of said incidences and was able to rescue the Granger girl before she could be fatally injured. However, this mere coincidence has raised some serious questions among the staff and students at Hogwarts._

 _"Potter is a criminal," said Marcus Flint, a Slytherin student. "Everyone's been saying for years that he saved the wizarding world from the most evil wizard of all time—maybe he did it so that HE could be the most evil wizard of all time."_

"WHAT RUBBISH!" exclaimed Ginny, angrily throwing down the paper on the table in front of her.

Harry's spoon froze midway to his mouth and he looked up at her.

"Are you surprised?" he asked.

"I'm not _thrilled_ ," she said, bitterly.

Ron took the paper from her and narrowed his eyes at it. He too, threw it back down angrily and practically stabbed the last batch of pancakes on his plate. Harry had already had a chance to read it. Someone had taken the liberty of placing a fresh copy right on his bedside table so that he wouldn't miss it. How very thoughtful of them.

"Keep reading, it gets better," Harry told Ginny, sarcastically.

She picked up the paper again and continued to read it aloud.

 _When Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School, was cornered by a Daily Prophet reporter and asked to give a quote, he blatantly laughed and said, "These rumours are just that—rumours. They have always existed and will always exist, unfortunately. I can tell you that Ms. Granger is alive and well and most certainly does not blame Harry Potter for either incidences. In fact, had he not been there to rescue her both times, she might not be where she is today."_

 _But other staff members agree otherwise._

 _"Potter has a knack for poking his nose where it doesn't belong," said Severus Snape, current Potions Master at Hogwarts School. "It could be that he has now simply poked it one too many times."_

 _In fact, it is rather difficult for many to believe that Potter, a mere second-year at Hogwarts, was well educated enough to be able to defeat the troll on Halloween and the boggart last week, without the use of dark magic. Professor R.J Lupin, current Transfiguration teacher, said otherwise._

 _"Suddenly, everyone is forgetting that Harry is the son of the head of the Auror Office," Lupin said. "As his former Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, I can tell you that boggarts are covered in the third year curriculum. There is no reason why Harry can't already know how to handle them."_

 _"Suddenly, if you risk your own life to save another's, you become a criminal," he added._

Ginny looked up from the newspaper.

"That was very nice of Professor Lupin to say that about you, Harry," she said.

"Yeah, but he's a friend so it doesn't really count," Harry muttered.

"It counts more than you know," Neville told him.

Over the next couple of days, Harry kept his head bent low and avoided eye contact with his peers, as they were _all_ now whispering behind his back. Sirius had written to him as soon as the first article had been printed, and had wisely advised that Harry say nothing to no one. So that was exactly what he did. Ron and Neville never left his side, so that he wouldn't end up in a similar situation again without witnesses, and Harry concentrated on nothing but homework and Quidditch, and tried to put his mind off of the horrible rumours that were now circulating around the whole school.

On the morning of December 10th, Harry awoke to find the dormitory completely deserted. Remembering that it was Saturday, he lazily got out of bed, rubbed his head and slowly headed downstairs. The common room was completely full of students, all of them no doubt excited for the lecture that was to happen later that day. However, as Harry appeared at the top of the stairs, the common room silenced instantly. All heads were turned to him as they watched him climb down the stairs. Harry stared around, smiling nervously at some familiar faces. But no one smiled back. Feeling completely out of place, he ran back upstairs and changed out of his pajamas. He then darted out of the common room with a low feeling in his stomach that he would never feel comfortable in his own common room again.

Ron and Neville were sitting in the Great Hall for a late breakfast when Harry finally found them. He silently took the seat across from them, poured himself some pumpkin juice, and chugged it down quickly before he finally spoke.

"Why doesn't Hermione just tell everyone what really happened?"

Ron and Neville exchanged a look, and then both put down their knife and fork.

"She did," Neville told him.

"Well then why am I still getting weird looks from everyone?" Harry demanded.

"No one believes her, mate," said Ron, in a very quiet voice. He looked over his shoulder once, to make sure that none of the Slytherins could hear him. "The theory that's going around now…from what I've heard…is that you performed some kind of memory charm on her…or that you brainwashed her. I've heard both."

"But I'm a second-year, for crying out loud!" Harry hissed. "How does anyone expect me to be able to do that?!"

"You may be a second-year, mate, but you're also the son of the _head_ of the Auror office," said Ron.

Harry sighed in frustration and took another swig of juice. His eyes landed on the morning paper by Neville's side and he frowned.

 ** _The Boy Who Conquered, Deceiving Us Once Again_**

"What have I done this time?" Harry muttered, miserably.

"Nothing," said Neville, quickly. He folded up the paper and thrust it under the table, out of Harry's range of vision. "Let's do something today—you in the mood for a walk about the grounds?"

"Not really," said Harry.

"Hey, how about we go and visit Hagrid?" said Ron, brightly.

Harry shrugged.

"I know something you could do," said Ginny, who came out of nowhere and sat next to Harry. "Hello, Neville," she added.

He gave her a short wave, while Harry looked at her questioningly.

"You could ask Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas if they're in the mood for a little Quidditch before the Lockhart lecture tonight."

"That's hilarious, Ginny," said Ron, sarcastically. "It may have escaped your notice, but no one wants to come near Harry at the moment—uh, sorry Harry, mate."

Harry shook his head.

"Oh Ron, you're always thinking that you know how everything should be," said Ginny, dully.

"For once, I think he's right and you're wrong, Ginny," said Neville, in the politest way he could.

Ginny raised an eyebrow.

"W-why is it so important that I ask Seamus and Dean to play today?" Harry asked her.

"Because then, everyone will see that you are not afraid to show your face—that you have nothing to hide."

"But I _am_ afraid to show my face," Harry admitted, very quietly.

"But _they_ don't have to know that," Ginny pointed out. "I'm telling you, it's going to be the smartest thing you've done all year."

"What's that supposed to—?!"

"No, she's right!" said Neville, cutting Ron off. "That's brilliant, Ginny!"

"Thank you," she said, proudly.

Harry looked sideways at Neville.

"She _is_ right, Harry," he said, lowering his voice. "The best way to make people believe that you're innocent is to act like you're innocent."

"And what exactly has he been doing to make him not look innocent, running around hexing people?!" cried Ron. "Recruiting students for dark arts expeditions?!"

"You know what I mean," said Neville, his eyes still firmly on Harry.

Harry sighed deeply and looked again at Ginny before answering.

"Come on, Ron, let's go get our brooms."

Seamus and Dean were playing Gobbstones in the common room when Harry and Ron finally returned. They turned ghostly white as the pair approached them, and most of the common room quieted down as well, as everyone was very interested in what Harry was going to say. Harry cleared his throat. He'd never felt more nervous about something in his entire life.

"H-hey guys," he said, in a slightly shaking voice.

"Hey," the boys mumbled back.

Harry took another deep breath.

"So like, I bought all these new brooms and I'm trying to figure out which one to use for the next match," he said. "Want to fly around for a bit?"

The boys hesitantly exchanged a look, and Harry was sure he'd heard someone somewhere whisper, "He's probably jinxed these brooms!"

"Aw come on, guys, you don't honestly believe all that rubbish that they're saying, do you?" said Ron, suddenly.

Dean shrugged.

"Because it's just that—rubbish," said Neville, matter-of-factly.

Seamus pulled Dean aside and whispered something to him. Then, they turned to look at Harry together.

"Yeah, we'll go," said Dean.

"But just in case, we'd like to choose which brooms we test out," said Seamus.

"Fair enough," said Neville.

Harry let out an exhale of relief.

On the whole, it was a fairly enjoyable afternoon. Harry, Ron, Dean and Seamus tested out most of Harry's brooms out on the Quidditch field, while Neville sat at the stands with a book. As it turned out, the Nimbus 2000 and the Comet were Harry's best ones, though Ron was eyeing the Sweepstakes with great admiration. By 5 o'clock, the boys got back to the ground, laughing over a very awkward turn that Ron Dean had made, causing him to bump against one of the three goal hoops.

"All done?" said Neville, who came down from the stands to meet them.

"Yep," said Harry and Ron together.

"We'd better go have that early dinner before Mr. I-love-myself arrives to give his stupid lecture," said Seamus.

Harry laughed out loud.

"This was fun, right?" he said, trying not to sound desperate for them to start hanging out with him again. It had certainly been a strange transition over the last week, from being the most popular, well-liked boy in the school, to…well…

"Yeah, it was fun," Seamus admitted.

"But it doesn't mean we want to start doing this from now on all the time," added Dean, quickly.

"H-how do you mean?" said Harry.

"Well," said Dean, slowly, looking sideways at Seamus.

"It's just…well, if people see us with you…"

"We don't want our parents to think…" said Dean.

"You understand, don't you, Harry?" said Seamus.

Harry stopped to look at them.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I think I do understand. You two don't want to be seen with me so that people won't think that you're also criminals. Right?"

The boys stared at him.

"What's the latest rumour about me?" Harry demanded of Ron.

Ron shrugged sheepishly and looked to Neville, who shook his head in response. Harry looked round at Dean and Seamus and raised his eyebrows.

"Well?"

"They're saying that you tried to sneak into the Slytherin common room," said Seamus.

"WHAT?!" cried Harry. "WHO SAID THAT?!"

"Everyone!" said Seamus, Dean, Ron and Neville at the same time.

Harry looked round at them all.

"But that's—"

"Ridiculous, I know," said Neville. "Try telling _them_ that."

Harry looked back at Seamus.

"But you two don't…surely you don't believe…do you really think…?"

"No, of course not," said Seamus, quickly.

"But we _will_ get into trouble if people see us with you," said Dean, desperately. "Look, I'm sorry Harry, but I really don't want my mum worrying that I'll be some dark sorcerer. She's still having trouble coming to grips with the fact that I'm a wizard."

"I…" said Harry, but Dean and Seamus handed him his brooms, shrugged, and turned back to the castle, leaving Harry, Ron and Neville to stare after them.

"Well, that was a bust," said Ron, in an attempt to brighten the mood, as the boys made their way back to the dormitory.

Harry had not spoken at all since they'd left the Quidditch field. He quietly put away his brooms and loosened his tie as he took a seat on the window ledge at the end of the dormitory.

"You coming to dinner?" said Ron, who was standing at the door with Neville.

"No, you two go ahead," said Harry. "I'm not hungry."

The truth was, he was _starving_. But he didn't think he could stand sitting in the crowded Great Hall with all those people watching him and whispering ridiculous things about him while kindly asking him to pass the syrup. He would just have to sit here until it was over and then go to that stupid Lockhart lecture.

"I don't think it's best that you stay up here alone, Harry," said Neville, quietly, and when Harry turned his head to look at him, he saw that he had taken a few steps towards him. "Just imagine how much worse it'll get if there is another incident and you're not at dinner to prove that it wasn't you."

He was right. Harry looked back at the window for another couple of minute, and then stood up and nodded at Neville. Neville patted him on the back and Ron led the way out of the dormitory.

It looked as though the students at the Gryffindor table had all purposely moved so that there was an open space for Harry to sit, away from everybody else. Only Ginny and Hermione were sitting there, both of them looking mildly appalled. Harry reluctantly followed Ron and Neville to where the girls sat, feeling many eyes on him as he walked.

"What is this?" Ron asked the girls, tilting his head at the direction of the table where all their fellow Gryffindors sat together.

"This is stupidity," said Ginny, who looked exhausted.

Hermione was sporting a heavily bandaged arm, though she was no longer on crutches anymore, which was definitely a relief to Harry. He didn't need her looking like a completely crippled person and him looking even guiltier.

"How…how are you?" he asked her, as he sat down.

"I'm okay," she replied, smiling at him. "And don't worry—I don't think you've hexed me or modified my memory."

Harry looked away.

"I'm only kidding of course!" she added, quickly. "Come on boys, lighten up!"

"It's kind of hard to do, under the circumstances," Harry muttered into his empty plate.

"Rumours will always exist, whether you like it or not," said Hermione, echoing Dumbledore's words from that article in the morning. "Even in the wizarding world, they will always be an integral part of society. You've just got to accept it."

"Whatever," said Harry, glancing down the long Gryffindor table, where everyone had been watching him. They all looked away quickly. Harry sighed.

"So what are you girls looking so nervous about?" Neville asked, his eyes on Ginny.

"Nothing!" said Ginny and Hermione together, though quite unconvincingly.

"Oh come off it," said Ron, who was already half through a turkey leg. "Spill it."

Hermione and Ginny looked at each other worriedly.

"Well?" said Harry, raising his eyebrows at them.

Their silence was not a good sign.

"Well," said Ginny, slowly. "Somebody— _I don't know who_ —but somebody started a new…a new rumour."

"Go on," said Harry, slowly.

Ginny looked to Hermione for support. Hermione looked over her shoulder at the Slytherin table before leaning forwards and lowering her voice.

"You no doubt have heard of the famous tale of the Chamber of Secrets?" she said.

Harry shook his head slowly, as did Ron. Neville however, grew very serious.

"What about it?" he said. "They don't think…wait, do they?"

Hermione hesitated before nodding into her plate. Neville brought a hand to his mouth.

" _What?_ " Harry demanded, looking from him to the girls.

"The Chamber of Secrets is supposedly a room that Salazar Slytherin built within this school before he left," Hermione explained. "It is said that a monster resides within the chamber, whose purpose is to get rid of all muggle-born students. I don't know if you know this, but Slytherin was not exactly fond of the other founders letting muggle-borns study at the school."

Harry blinked.

"And what exactly does this have to do with me?" he said.

"Well, before Slytherin left the school, he sealed the chamber until his own true heir would return and be able to unleash the monster on the muggle-borns. The heir would be a true Slytherin at heart, with the motive to get rid of all muggle—"

" _They think I'm the bloody heir of bloody Slytherin?!"_ Harry hissed, angrily.

Hermione fell silent at once, and Ginny looked startled at Harry's language. Harry looked to Neville for confirmation, and he too, was sitting silently.

"Unbelievable," said Harry, turning back to the Gryffindors who, again, looked away from him quickly. Harry looked at Hermione again. "And the fact that I'm in Gryffindor? And the fact that you're willing to sit here with me in front of others? This doesn't tell them anything?"

"Not when they think you've cursed me, it doesn't," said Hermione, apologetically.

"They think you've been sorted wrong," Ginny added.

"But the Sorting Hat is never wrong," said Neville.

"Try telling them that," said Ginny, bitterly.

Hermione suddenly leaned forwards again.

"Look Harry, I'm sorry. I wish I could convince them but no one will believe me! I keep receiving all these get-well cards with kind messages about how they'll bring me back to normal soon. People are looking at me with such sympathy, as though I've just been released from the mental ward. Teachers are excusing me for all assignments and telling me to concentrate on getting a lot of rest. I'm telling you, no one believes me! No one is taking me seriously!"

"I guess it's not just you who has it bad right now," Neville told Harry.

"What does your _friend_ think of all this?" Harry asked Hermione, bitterly.

She looked away from him quickly and resumed eating, as though she hadn't heard him. This answered Harry's question, and he glanced over Hermione's shoulder at the Slytherin table, where he found Malfoy glaring at him with vicious eyes, along with his little Slytherin pals.

When dinner was over, all Defense against the Dark Arts students were told to wait in the Entrance Hall, while the Great Hall was being readied for Gilderoy Lockhart's arrival. Harry swayed on the bottom step of the marble staircase, while Neville stood with Hermione near the door and Ron was talking to his brothers, Fred and George. Ginny was listening to a lecture from her older brother Percy and Dean and Seamus were standing as far away from Harry as they possibly could, all the while staring at him. Harry looked nervously around the Entrance Hall. Nobody was standing near him. Nobody wanted to stand near him. He didn't think he had ever known such treatment before, and wondered if this was why Remus had cancelled their Tuesday lunch that week.

The double oak doors to the Great Hall opened and Professor McGonagall stood, looking out at the students in the Entrance Hall who fell silent at once.

"Mr. Lockhart has arrived," she announced. "I ask you all to find a seat, any seat, and wait quietly for him to begin."

She stood aside and let the students through. Harry jumped off of the step and waited until everyone was inside before he followed as well. Professor McGonagall gave him a quick nod as he passed her.

The four house tables had vanished from the Great Hall. Instead, about a hundred chairs were facing the front of the Great Hall, where Gilderoy Lockhart was standing, in lilac-coloured robes, a big smile on his face. Harry took one of the chairs at the very back (so that he'd be able to leave before everyone else) and looked at the front. All—or most—of his teachers were seated at the staff table, with the exception of Hagrid, Remus and Dumbledore. McGonagall closed the double doors and moved forwards to sit on the chair next to Harry's. He gave her a startled look and she smiled briskly.

"I have to be here to escort the students out at the end," she whispered, her eyes at the front of the large room.

"Oh," said Harry.

He didn't know what else to say. Neville was sitting somewhere at the front and Ron was also elsewhere. So what if Harry had to sit with McGonagall? Bid deal. She was probably only doing it to make sure he didn't try to attack anyone during the lecture. It was better for him—at least she'd be able to vouch for him that in fact _hadn't_ attacked anyone…even if someone miraculously got hurt over the next hour and a half.

The students finally settled into their seats and got over their excitement at the presence of a celebrity. The hall quieted down and Lockhart took a few steps forwards, his smile still wide.

"Good evening!" he said, brightly. "As I am sure you all know very well by now, my name is Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin third class, honorary member of the Dark Force Defense League and five times winner of _Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile_ award." His smile widened even more, if it was at all possible, and Harry swore he could hear several girls sigh softly. "I have had the pleasure of being invited to your historic school to give a little lecture to all you Defense against the Dark Arts students. And I feel sure that at the end of this lecture, you will have gained not only a new outlook on the study of Defense against the Dark Arts, but also a new interest in my career and possibly a desire to read the rest of my works."

Yep, it was possible. The grin was now so wide that Harry feared for Lockhart accidentally cracking his jaw. Well, half of him feared. The other half wondered what it would be like to witness that occur. Grinning slightly, Harry quickly threw the thought out of his mind. He knew he was being paranoid now, but if someone somehow found out what he was thinking, they'd find a new reason to blame him. And he really didn't want that.

"Before we can go on to discussing the dark arts, let us discuss those who perform the dark arts and the means by which they do this," said Lockhart. He took of his long, silvery cloak and threw it at the crowd. A group of girls gasped excitedly as they caught it. "In order for a wizard to perform dark magic, they no doubt have to have a wand, don't they?" He let out a soft chuckle. "Well, the suitability of a wand to perform dark magic depends, at least partly, on its core. I'm sure my dear friend Mr. Ollivander down at Diagon Alley would agree with me when I say that Dragon Heartstring and Phoenix Feather have a certain reputation for being suitable for it, while it's hard to perform dark magic with unicorn hair wands."

At this, Harry felt himself sliding in his chair in an attempt to make himself look smaller. Professor McGonagall noticed this and gave him a strange look, but he said nothing. This was exactly what he needed, for people to now wonder what kind of core his wand had. And when they would eventually find out that it was phoenix feather, their suspicions would be confirmed and he would probably be forced out of Hogwarts by an angry mob.

"So, before you prepare to duel a dark wizard, take a good look at the wand in his hand," continued Lockhart. He paused, as if waiting for applause, and then smiled brightly again. "I'm sure you all know of the famous dark wizard that my other good friend, Albus Dumbledore, had once dueled—Gellert Grindelwald. He was a dark wizard, did you know that? No? Well, you do now!" The smile again widened. "So if you wonder what you could take from today's lecture, keep that little fact in mind."

Harry frowned up at the room. Was he actually hearing these words? Didn't every wizard _in the world_ already known this?

"I could also tell you about famous witches and wizards who grew to be very dark," said Lockhart. "And those who did not. Gellert Grindelwald was a dark wizard. And so were his followers—all of them. And then there is Albus Dumbledore, who is most certainly not a dark wizard. And me, as well! Given that I have order of merlin third class, am an honorary member of the Dark Force Defense League, and have won the _Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile_ award five times, I don't think you would say that I am a dark wizard at all."

He chuckled again, even more loudly, and Harry found himself in complete awe at how many students joined in on Lockhart's laughter. McGonagall however, looked pained.

"And as I mentioned before, I am positive that this lecture will inspire you all to buy the complete set of my books and read about how I have defended myself on countless occasions," Lockhart added. "Otherwise, I would never have achieved Order of Merlin third class, and honorary member status of the Dark Force Defense League…or that award from _Witch Weekly_."

The next hour and a half were the longest in Harry's entire life. He was sure that Lockhart must have mentioned his order of merlin at least two hundred times already, and by the time everyone filed out of the Great Hall, Harry was sure that his suspicions had been correct all along—Gilderoy Lockhart was a git.

* * *

"So?" said Lily as she welcomed her son out of the Hogwarts Express on the first day of the Christmas holidays. "How was it? Tell me all about it! What's he like?"

"Git," said Harry.

His mother frowned at him.

"Oh what are you talking about now?" she said, incredulously. "Gilderoy Lockhart is most certainly not a—"

"Harry!"

Harry turned round to find Ron running towards him across the platform.

"Hey, Mrs. Potter!" he said to Lily, who smiled at him. "Hey Harry, listen, we're still meeting up on New Year's, right?"

Harry looked round at his mother for confirmation.

"Yes, yes," she said. "Harry will join you on New Year's, Ron."

"Great, thanks Mrs. Potter!" exclaimed Ron.

He grinned at Harry and then ran back to his family, which were waiting on the other end of the platform. Mrs. Weasley waved at Lily who waved back and then led Harry out of the platform.

"Hold onto my arm, dear, we'll apparate home," she said.

Harry hesitated. He had of course performed side apparition many times before, but he was already feeling quite queasy today, that he wasn't sure it was a good idea. Nevertheless, he grabbed onto his mother's arm and closed his eyes. He felt his mother's arm twist away from him and redoubled his grip. The next thing he knew, everything went black; he was being pressed very hard from all directions; he could not breathe, there were iron bands tightening around his chest; his eyeballs were being forced back into his head; his eardrums were being pushed deeper into his skull and then—

He gulped great lungfuls of chilly winter air and opened his streaming eyes. He felt as though he had just been forced through a very tight rubber tube. It was a few seconds before he realised that King's Cross station had vanished. He and his mother were now standing in the village square of Godric's Hollow. And as comprehension dawned on him, Harry turned over and vomited.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, dear," said Lily, quickly, once Harry had finished. She pulled out her wand and cleaned up after him. "I just thought it would be faster than a car. And besides, you were getting so good at it!"

"I'm fine," Harry croaked. "It's alright, I'm fine," he repeated as his mother fussed around him. "Mum, let go. I'm fine."

Lily stared at him.

"Harry, is everything alright?" she asked suddenly. "How is school?"

"Fine, everything's fine," said Harry, in the most convincing voice he could manage. "Where's dad?"

"He's waiting at home," said Lily.

She led the way back to their house at the end of the street and opened the door.

"Surprise!" yelled James, Remus and Sirius as Harry entered the living room.

The three had been in the middle of levitating ornaments onto the large Christmas tree that was set up in the middle of the room, when Harry showed up.

"Dad!" Harry yelled, and he ran to hug his father.

"There he is!" said James, laughing. "How's it going, Harry?"

Harry hugged him tightly, while his mind raced. Should he tell him about what was happening up at the school? But then his mother came into the living room, also laughing, and Harry instantly decided against it. Perhaps he'd tell him when his mother wasn't around—he didn't want to worry her.

Harry was mighty relieved to be home for the holidays. His parents made him feel more welcome than he'd felt in the last month, back in his other home. Sirius told of the latest gossip down at Hogsmeade, and James talked a lot about what had been happening in the auror office.

That night, Harry felt somewhat relieved to be sleeping in his own bed again. He loved it at Hogwarts, but Seamus and Dean had made things so awkward that Harry actually looked forward to when they weren't in the dormitory.

He pulled on his pajamas now and sat up in his bed with _Flying with the Cannons_ perched up on his knees. Though, as Harry sat there in the dark of his room, trying to read, he found that his mind kept wandering back to everything that was happening up at the school. How could things have gone from so well to so horrible in virtually the blink of an eye? And why wasn't Dumbledore trying to explain things to the school so that everyone would leave Harry alone already?

There were three knocks to his door. He looked up just as his father entered, with the tip of his wand illuminated in the dark, followed by Remus.

"Hey there," said James, quietly, closing the door behind them. "How you doing?"

"Fine," Harry answered, shutting the book in his lap and sitting up even more.

James and Remus moved into the room. James brightened the wand a bit more so that he could see Harry better and sat on the edge of his bed. Remus took the seat on the window ledge just to the right.

"What's up?" Harry asked, looking from one to the other suspiciously.

"We figured we'd talk to you while your mother is downstairs, being distracted by Sirius' ramble about Quidditch," said Remus, smiling softly.

"Okay," said Harry slowly. "What did you want to talk about?"

"What has been happening up at the school," said James, clearly.

"How did you—?"

"I've heard the same rumours that you have, Harry," said Remus, sadly. "I am well aware of everything that has been happening."

"Why did you cancel the last three Tuesday lunches then?" Harry demanded. "And why weren't you at the Lockhart lecture?"

"I'm sorry, Harry," said Remus, and he looked it too. "I promise, it had nothing to do with you. I had…prior commitments."

"Oh?"

"He means he went to see Sirius," said James, suddenly. "Harry, I need to ask you something and I swear, I will only ask you once." Harry listened. "Did you or did you not attack Hermione Granger?"

"NO!" Harry bellowed.

James' wand instantly pointed at the door and he muttered a spell under his breath, while Remus brought a finger to his lips. Harry mumbled "sorry" and then quickly repeated, "I swear, I didn't do it!"

"I believe you, Harry," said James, quickly. "I promise I believe you. I just had to ask to make sure."

"You don't ever have to ask to make sure, James," said a voice from the door.

The three looked round to see Lily standing there, her arms folded across her chest, Sirius just behind her, looking apologetic.

"L-Lily?" said James, nervously.

Lily flicked the light switch and the room brightened instantly.

"You don't ever have to ask my son if he attacked someone because the answer will always be 'no'," said Lily, boldly.

"No Lils, I know that, of course I know that," said James, quickly. "I just…well you know, little boys. They like to play practical jokes…"

"Oh, you mean like you three?" said Lily, looking from James to Remus and then to Sirius.

"Y-yeah," said Remus, chuckling slightly. "Yeah, exactly like us three."

Lily unfolded her arms again and went to sit next to Harry.

"If Harry says he didn't do it, then he didn't do it," she said.

"Lils, I _know_ he didn't do it," said James, a little irritably. "I was just checking."

"Well go check someone else's kid then," she said, stubbornly. "Stop bothering Harry while he tries to sleep."

"No, mum!" Harry said, suddenly. "I _want_ to talk about this with you guys!"

And he was surprised himself that it was the truth. He'd been aching to tell them all that he felt about everything that had been going on. And so, as though by the flick of a magical switch, everything spilled out at once. The four most important people in his life listened without interrupting as Harry told them everything that he'd wanted to tell them for over two months now—about how he was with Ron when they ran to save Hermione _and_ Ginny from the troll, about how it was bothering him that everyone chose to ignore this and only focus on the fact that it was Harry and Hermione, about how he really was just lucky that Neville had told him about boggarts on the morning of the incident and that it was completely chance that he'd happened to walk by right when Hermione was about to be attacked, about how Seamus and Dean didn't want to be seen with him, and about how the Lockhart lecture only made things worse at the mention of wand cores and dark wizards.

"…and now they're all going to find out that my wand has a phoenix feather and I'll most likely be thrown out of the school by an angry mob," Harry concluded.

There was silence.

"Maybe we could get you another wand," said Lily, gently, "only for the time being, of course."

"No, that's ridiculous," said James, at once. "He has to work with the wand that chose him. Any other won't work properly—you know that."

"And besides, getting Harry another wand will only make him look like he has something to hide," Remus added, quietly. "And we don't want that."

"Well we've got to do _something_!" cried Lily. "Rumours are rumours, but Harry is no ordinary boy. People love to make things very difficult for famous people."

"Yeah, take it from me," said Sirius, casually, his eyes on Harry. "You know how many times I've been accused of having an affair with Bathilda Bagshot?"

"Bathilda who?" said Harry.

"She's a historian," said Lily. "She lives just at the end of the road, actually."

"Why…" began Harry.

"Some reporter somewhere once caught me reading one of her books and suddenly it meant I was marrying her or something," said Sirius. "It's complete nonsense—you can't let these things bother you."

"Yeah, but are you being practically harassed for it?" said Harry, dully.

"Every day," said Sirius.

Harry grinned at him.

"Hang on a moment," said James suddenly, and Harry looked round at him with raised eyebrows, "Are you telling us that you actually performed the boggart banishing charm successfully?"

Harry gave him a light shrug, forcing a grin on his father's face.

"You're my son alright," said James.

"Neville told me about it that very morning," Harry added, quietly. "I was just lucky I remembered."

"I'd say Hermione Granger was lucky that you happened to be walking by," said Lily, with a kind smile on her face.

"Yeah?" said Harry, dully. "I don't think she considers herself lucky. I think she blames me because everyone thinks she's a nutcase now."

"Language!" Lily hissed, but James, Sirius and Remus all laughed at the same time.

"Stop it!" Lily demanded of them. "I'm serious now!"

"Alright, alright," said James, wiping tears from his eyes. "Hang on; how did you know we were here talking to Harry?"

"The second I saw you two disappear and Sirius began rambling, I knew something was up," said Lily, who looked mighty proud of herself. "You're forgetting that I've known Sirius just as long as you have...he's _terrible_ at distracting people."

"Oh that's great," Sirius muttered, looking disappointed.

Harry laughed.

On the whole, it was a very good week and a half at home. Harry spent every awakened minute with his parents, Remus and Sirius, and none of them reminded him of what had been going on at school. He particularly enjoyed watching them talking to each other. It made him feel as though he'd grown up with them at Hogwarts as well. They were all such kids at heart. It made Harry feel very nice. The only single most horrible moment of the holiday break was the day before New Year's, when Professor McGonagall decided to drop by unexpectedly.

"Would you like some tea, Minerva?" Lily asked her, kindly.

"That would be lovely, Lily," she said, smiling at her.

Lily instantly retreated to the kitchen to fix up the tea, while James and Sirius led McGonagall into the living room. Remus took Harry to the corridor by the front door and lowered his voice.

"I want you to go up to your room and stay there until Professor McGonagall leaves, do you understand me?" he said, in a very serious tone.

Harry nodded.

Remus patted him gently on the back, but before he turned away from him, he suddenly sucked in his breath and shut his eyes quickly. It seemed that a wave of pain had just shot right through him, and Harry, having expected this (given what day it was), supported him as Remus' knees buckled.

"I'm fine," he breathed, after several moments.

"I thought it's supposed to happen tomorrow," said Harry.

"Doesn't mean it can't start tonight," said Remus. "I'm okay. You go to your room now. Go on."

Harry watched him winced as he went ahead to join the adults in the living room. He was just about to climb the stairs when his mother appeared around the corner.

"Harry, go and pack your things for Ron's, alright?" she said, smiling up at him. "We won't be long and then I'll floo over there with you. I've got a couple of things I have to talk to Molly about."

"Okay," said Harry. "Hey mum," he added, as she turned to leave. She stopped to look at him. "Make sure Moony has lots of tea. He doesn't look good."

Lily gave him another smile and then retreated back to the living room. Harry climbed up the stairs and stopped on the last one. He then crouched down, ever so quietly, and sat, listening.

"How is everything up at Hogwarts?" his father's voice said. "How is Dumbledore these days?"

"Fine and fine," said McGonagall, firmly. "The school year is progressing and Dumbledore is well."

"Very good," said Sirius.

There was a silence.

"I am sure that you all no doubt know why I am here," said McGonagall, suddenly.

"We have some idea, yes," said James.

Harry held his breath as he listened.

"These rumours are getting all too ridiculous—"

"I agree," said Lily, fervently.

"—and so I feel it is my duty to inform you of just how out-of-hand things have gotten," said McGonagall.

There was a silence.

"Harry's classmates think that he is the Heir of Slytherin," said McGonagall. There was a silence. "The heir from the legend of the Chamber of Secrets, that is."

"Poor boy," said Lily, sadly. "What on earth are they putting him through?"

"Now just hold on a second here," said James. "How could they think he is the Heir of Slytherin if he is in Gryffindor house?"

"The word on the street is that students think the Sorting Hat misplaced Harry," said Remus, quietly.

"But the Sorting Hat is never wrong!" said Lily.

"Try telling gossipy students that," said McGonagall.

Harry breathed. From what McGonagall was saying, it sounded like she was on _his_ side!

"Oh poor Harry," said Lily. "And what do we do about this?"

"Well, I would suggest that you advise your son _not_ to pull anymore pranks for the time being," said McGonagall, "Because these rumours really are getting out of hand."

Harry was just about to dart down the stairs and shout "I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!" at McGonagall, when Sirius and James beat him to it.

"HE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!" they bellowed together, and Harry was sure they had gotten to their feet.

"Minerva—boys, _sit down_ ," said Lily. "Minerva, you don't honestly believe that Harry actually did what he is being accused of having done, do you?"

"I was not there either days to confirm what really happened," said McGonagall. "All I know is that it looks really bad."

"Exactly," said Remus. "It _looks_ bad—that is all."

"Look," said McGonagall. "I don't want to accuse Harry of anything—of course I don't. But you should still warn him to never go anywhere by himself, at least for now. There is no doubt in that if these rumours do not stop soon, Harry could have some serious trouble at school…I am talking, of course, about the same type of trouble that the Dark Lord once almost got into."

* * *

"The Dark Lord?" said Ron. "You're sure that's what she said?"

"Positive," said Harry, nodding.

"Well, blimey then," said Ron. "This is more serious than we thought."

"Yeah," said Harry.

The pair of them were sitting on the train back to Hogwarts. Neville had stepped out for a moment and Ginny was sitting with some first-years. Harry had told Ron everything that he'd overheard during McGonagall's meeting the second the train began to move, because when he'd finally gone to the Weasley's, Fred and George wouldn't leave them alone for a second. They wanted to know what were Harry's next plans of attack, and if they could be in on it.

"Bugger off, guys!" Ron shouted at them repeatedly.

Now riding in the train, Ron was sitting cross-legged and facing Harry, whose head was in his hands.

"But what did she mean by 'the same type of trouble that the Dark Lord once almost got into'?"

Harry shrugged and sat up again.

"Ron," he said, very quietly. "Do you think…"

Ron raised his eyebrows as he waited. But before Harry could say it however, the compartment door slid open and Harry jumped up.

"S-sorry," said Neville, shutting it behind him. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't," said Harry, quickly.

Neville sat next to Ron and smiled at Harry.

"You good?"

Harry nodded.

"The heck he is," Ron contradicted. "What were you about to say?"

Neville frowned but, like Ron, waited for Harry to speak up. Harry looked from one to the other, and then down at his lap.

"Do you guys think that I'm like him…like the Dark Lord?"

There was silence.

"No, of course not," said Neville, quickly. "Why would you even ask something like that?"

Harry shrugged.

"Because everyone is starting to think that, aren't they?" said Ron. "You shouldn't worry about it, mate. Don't listen to them idiots."

Neville looked like he wanted to object Ron's use of language, but he nodded fervently at Harry, who sighed of relief. It had been bothering him deeply—ever since he'd heard McGonagall suggest it. But now at least, he felt better. And it didn't matter whether the entire wizarding world thought that he was on his way to becoming the next Voldemort. As long as his friends were still by his side, he was okay.

Harry was not sure how he felt about being back at Hogwarts. On one hand, it was nice to get back to Quidditch and prepare for a crucial match that was coming up on the 30th of January. But on the other hand, he wasn't sure if all the stares and whispers from everyone were worth it. He tried to take Neville's advice on it and just ignore it, concentrating on homework and Quidditch instead. But it was easier said than done.

When he stopped by the library on the way to Charms to pick up a book for a nasty essay that Slughorn had assigned, he saw a group of girls quickly jump up from a nearby table and hurry out of the library upon seeing him there. Frustrated, he sought Madame Pince's help in finding the book, to speed up the process. Unfortunately, several fourth-years saw him there and began whispering to each other, "He's probably looking for books about the Dark Lord—researching how to become like him!"

"Or worse!" one of them added.

To Harry's horror, they all looked round at him and then gasped as he met their eyes. Harry ran out of the library as fast as his legs would take him, leaving Madame Pince to stare after him with a pile of books she'd just retrieved for him. He did not stop running until he was in the safety of the common room. He'd just have to ask Neville to fetch the book for him.

He was about to climb up the spiral staircase to his dormitory when Parvati Patil stopped him.

"Got a sec, Harry?" she said, sweetly.

"Uh, yeah sure," he said, quietly. "What's up?"

"Well I was just wondering...I mean I'm just being a curious cat here, but what sort of core does your wand happen to have? Just out of curiosity of course."

Harry stared at her, his heart thumping so loudly it was ringing in his ears.

"Um," he said, but before he could think of an answer, Lavender Brown called, "Hey Parvati!" and Harry seized the opportunity of escape.

He burst into the dormitory just as Ron was about to come out of it.

"What are you—?"

"Tell Flitwick I'm sick," Harry told him, and he slumped onto his bed and shoved his glasses onto the bedside table, his back facing Ron.

"O-okay," said Ron, a few minutes later.

He left without putting up a fight, which was good, considering Harry would give anything for him not to see the stubborn tears that were now streaming down his eyes. His father had told him a bit about Azkaban Prison, and he did not want to end up in there with those horrible creatures called dementors.

"Blimey, you look awful!" said Ron when Harry showed up at their most crucial Quidditch practice yet.

"I haven't slept in forty two hours," said Harry.

"Are you sure you're okay to fly today?" said Ginny, who had come along to watch. She was very excited about the upcoming match.

"Yeah, I'm fine," said Harry, turning to Ron. "Come on, let's go."

It was the most brutal practice they'd ever had. Harry felt his eyes closing a couple of times, causing him to nearly slip off of his broom. Time seemed to be standing still, refusing to move forwards and end the practice already. And even worse, a few Slytherins had taken it upon themselves to show up and shout words of encouragement up at the Gryffindors in the air. Harry ignored them as best as he could, but a part of him wanted to fly up there and shout back at them. It took all his willpower not to do so.

At the end of the practice, Neville waited for Harry and Ron to change while Ginny ran off to meet some friends. The three then walked back to the castle together, as the evening snow began to fall. As they walked back, they discussed their upcoming course selections and what they would be interested in taking next year.

"I don't think we have that many choices," said Neville, who was trying to shield Trevor from the cold. He had brought him out for a bit of fresh air, but it was getting really cold now.

"Well you're probably going to take rubbish like Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, aren't you?" said Ron. "Taking a book out of Hermione Granger's page, yes?"

"I might," said Neville quietly.

They finally reached the castle and began to climb up the marble staircase.

"What d'you reckon Divination will be like?" Ron wondered out loud.

"Dunno," said Neville. "Your brother said it is taught by Professor Trelawney, and she has a reputation for being weird."

"Which brother?" said Ron.

"Percy, of course," said Neville.

"You talk to _Percy_?" cried Ron.

"Sometimes," shrugged Neville.

While this went on, Harry's mind wandered to that place he'd forbidden himself to think about—the place where everything that had happened was stored safely at the back of his brain, for him to examine more thoroughly at night. He thought about what McGonagall had said about him ending up like Voldemort had at a young age. What _had_ he been like at a young age? Was he a lot like Harry? Would Harry grow up to be just like him and kill innocent people? Or worse…

"Harry? _Harry!_ "

"Huh? What?"

Ron was shaking him now. They were standing in the middle of a corridor on the third floor. Harry hadn't even noticed them walking into the warmth of the castle.

"Sorry, I must've been daydreaming," said Harry, sheepishly.

Ron eyed him suspiciously, but before he could question him any further, Neville gave a yelp.

"Trevor!" he shouted.

The toad seemed to have leapt out from Neville's hands and was now hopping its way around the hall. Neville shouted as he tried to get a hold of him, and soon Harry and Ron were also running with him, trying to catch the darn thing. Before long, it had caught sight of a door that was propped open with some kind of stone. As if on purpose, Trevor hopped inside and the boys followed him, ending up in the middle of a bathroom—and not just any bathroom…the _girls'_ bathroom.

"We shouldn't be here!" Ron hissed.

"Trevor!" cried Neville, spotting the toad up on the window sill. He ran for him, but stopped immediately at the sight of something moving in one of the opened stalls. Harry and Ron both followed him and froze. A pearly white ghost of a girl was standing atop one of the toilets, doing a kind of tap dance.

"Uh," said Ron, awkwardly. "Hello."

"And what are _you_ boys doing in here?!" she demanded, angrily.

The boys remained frozen.

"You're not supposed to be in here," said the ghost. "This is _my_ bathroom. Nobody's supposed to be in here!"

"Sorry!" Harry said, quickly. "We didn't mean to bother you. We…our toad wandered in here and we were just trying to get him back."

There was silence. And then—

"Oh," said the ghost. "Very well then, you may go and get him."

Harry nudged Neville, who moved towards the window sill and grabbed Trevor quickly before he could get away again.

"W-who are you?" Harry asked the ghost.

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well, I suppose I couldn't expect you to know me," she said, in kind of loud shriek. "Who would ever talk about ugly, miserable, moping Moaning Myrtle?!"

And then, she burst into tears.

"No, I'm sorry!" Harry cried, desperately. This was the last thing he needed…to be caught having upset a ghost for crying out loud. "I didn't mean anything by it—I'm sorry!"

The ghost calmed down a bit and looked sideways at him.

"Are you Harry Potter?" she asked, tears dissolving.

"Y-yes," he said. "Yeah, I am. How did you know that?"

"Even ghosts like to gossip," she said. "You're very famous...everyone knows what you look like."

"A-and you're…Myrtle?" said Ron.

"I suppose I am, now that I've told you," she said, stubbornly.

Her eyes landed on Ron (who looked completely horrified) and Neville, who was petting Trevor now.

"Why are you here?" Harry asked her.

Myrtle looked at him again.

"I'm _dead_ , if you haven't noticed," she snapped.

"No," said Harry, quickly. "No, I get that…I mean, why do you hang around in _here_?" He waved around the bathroom, and then suddenly hoped she would not dissolve into tears again, having misinterpreted his question.

"Well _here_ ," she waved her arms, mocking him, "is where I died."

"Here?!" cried Ron. "How come?"

"Well, if you _must know_ ," said Myrtle, who was obviously not very fond of Ron, "I was hiding because Olive Hornby had teased me about my glasses. I was crying in one of the stalls and then I heard somebody come in."

"Who was it?" said Harry.

"Some boy, who had come no doubt to make fun of me some more," said Myrtle. "I never saw him though."

"How do you know it was a boy then?" asked Neville.

"Because I heard him speaking," she said, simply, "In a kind of made-up language. And then I unlocked the stall to tell him to go away and…I died."

"Just like that?" said Harry. "How?"

"I told you, _I don't know!_ " she hissed.

"Come on, Harry, let's get out of here," said Ron, trying to pull him. Harry shrugged his arm off.

"Wait, Myrtle," he said. "How long ago was this?"

"Fifty years this coming June," said Myrtle, dully.

Neville looked round at Harry, having no doubt done the math before him.

"Myrtle," he said, looking round at her, suddenly. "Um…was…was Voldemort at school here with you, by any chance?"

" _Voldemort_?" said Myrtle, a small smile cracking on her face. "He was not called _Voldemort_ back then."

"What was he called?" said Harry, urgently.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," said Myrtle. "He was probably the most Slytherin-like Slytherin that had ever walked these halls."

"What was he like?" Harry pressed, suddenly feeling very grateful that Trevor had chosen _this_ bathroom to hop into.

"Oh, I'm not sure you want to know," said Myrtle, still smiling at him.

"Harry, come on—"

"No, I do!" cried Harry, shrugging Ron's arm off him again. "I do, Myrtle. Tell me, please."

"Well," said Myrtle, who looked very amused. She moved out of the stall and went to sit on the window seat. "He was one of the smartest students in the entire school."

"He was?!" said Harry, Ron and Neville at the same time.

"Yes," said Myrtle, simply. "He was the perfect student, you see…a Prefect…well-liked by everyone he studied with and by all his teachers…won many awards, did many extraordinary things…probably went on to become Head Boy later. I wouldn't know—I died before he got to his seventh year and people eventually stopped visiting me here."

"But," said Ron, looking as though he'd regret his question, "Can't you leave the bathroom?"

He was right to regret it. Myrtle had now burst into tears again and was wailing and howling so loudly that she didn't hear any of the boys' apologies. She forced them out of the bathroom with her screams and then plunged herself right into a toilet, splashing water everywhere.

"Yuck!" Ron yelled, having run out of the bathroom. "That girl's mental!"

"That, I won't disagree with you on, Ron," said Neville, fighting to catch his breath. "Harry?"

Harry's eyes were still on the now-closed bathroom door. He was thinking over about what Myrtle had said…about Myrtle being the perfect student, well-liked by all his peers and teachers…and then him becoming what he became.

"Come on, mate," said Ron, tugging at Harry's shoulder again. "Let's get out of here."

They waited until the common room emptied completely that night, before they brought up the subject of Myrtle again. Ginny and Hermione had stayed behind too, and were listening carefully to the boys' reports.

"It's curious that she would say that," Hermione told them, once they'd finished retelling it. "But I wouldn't take Moaning Myrtle for her word on it."

"Why not?" Neville wondered.

"Well because it's _Moaning Myrtle_!" said Hermione. "She's…well, a bit of a drama queen. She likes the attention, see."

"Well, _I_ don't think she was making it up," said Harry.

"Of course you don't," said Ron. "You want to believe it because you want all those stupid idiots to be right about you, with those rumours. You're afraid that they're wrong and that it's much, much worse than they think."

"No, I'm not," said Harry, though he doubted anyone heard him because it was in the quietest voice he'd ever used.

"If you're so worried about it, why not write to your parents?" Ginny suggested.

"No, don't do that!" said Ron, quickly. "They might take McGonagall for her word."

"They would never," said Harry, seriously. "You weren't there, Ron. You didn't see how they defended me against her." He paused. "Sirius—I could write to him."

"Yeah, do that," said Neville.

So Harry grabbed the nearest bit of parchment he could find and began writing, while the others sat, watching the fire or occasionally asking each other what time it was. When Harry was finished, he got to his feet, surprising the others.

"Where are you going?" Hermione demanded.

"To the owlry?" said Harry, giving her a questioning look.

"It's way past curfew!" she cried. "Are you mad? Do you need to be caught out of bed after hours, under the circumstances?!"

"Oh relax," said Harry, lazily. "I've got a way of leaving without getting caught."

"Don't use the cloak, mate," said Ron, suddenly.

Harry stopped to look at him.

"And why not?" he said, ignoring Hermione's question, "What cloak?"

"Because if something happens, if you accidentally fall or trip somewhere and the cloak falls off you, you'll get caught!" said Ron.

"Nothing is going to happen and since when are you afraid of taking risks?!" demanded Harry.

There was silence. He didn't like this one bit. His friends were starting to change right before his eyes.

"Look, Harry, just go tomorrow, alright?" said Neville, finally.

Harry sighed and tucked the letter into his pocket, then sat back down.

"Fine, but I'm getting up early to do it," he said.

"Fine," said Neville.

There was silence again. Harry stared at the fireplace for a long time. He then looked up at his friends, wondering if they'd laugh at him for what he was about to say.

"What if I do become like him?" he whispered into the silence.

All four heads turned to look at him, but no one said a word.

"I mean," he said, "What if I am headed in that direction? What if…what if back then, that night, he did some kind of spell…so that I would become like him when I grew up?"

"Harry," said Hermione. "There is a huge difference between doing something bad, and people _thinking_ that you've done something bad."

Harry looked up at her.

"You don't seriously think now that you actually had something to do with both of those attacks?"

"I was there with you, mate," Ron said. "I know the rest of the school has forgotten that I was there too, but don't you go forgetting it now."

"No, of course not," said Harry quickly. "I dunno…it's just…maybe this is all part of his plan."

"What plan?" said Ginny. "He's dead!"

Everyone seemed to clench at the word.

"M-maybe there's a way for him to come back," said Ron, no doubt thinking of Harry's conversation with Dumbledore.

"No one can come back from the dead," said Hermione, "Not even in the wizarding world."

Ron shrugged and looked to Harry for support.

"H-he might not be _completely_ dead," Harry said, very quietly.

"What do you mean?" Hermione demanded.

Harry took a deep breath.

"Let's just say that Dumbledore might've indirectly told me that there is a way for Voldemort to come back."

A moment of silence.

"When did Dumbledore tell you this?" said Ginny, in a slightly shaking voice.

Harry pursed his lips.

"Last year," he said.

The group fell silent again as everyone took in this information. It really had been that long? Harry swore that Neville and Ron had told him to tell his parents about that conversation only yesterday.

"And now all of this is happening," said Ron. "Blimey, it's actually as if someone is planning this—manipulating people's minds."

"The only mind that is being manipulated, supposedly, is mine," said Hermione, with a kind of grin on her face.

Harry knew it was an attempt to brighten up the mood, but he really couldn't bring himself to smile back. He knew what Neville was thinking as their eyes met, but he wasn't sure he wanted to hear it.

"Harry," he said, darkly. Harry saw something inevitable in his eyes—something he knew all along was there, but did not want to admit. "I think it's time—I think you should go see Dumbledore."

* * *

 _Draco_

* * *

"This is brilliant," said Blaise for the fourth time that morning as he put down the _Daily Prophet_ newspaper and grinned at Draco. "They all hate him!"

"We all hated him long before, it doesn't make that much of a difference," Draco pointed out.

"Then you clearly haven't read this article yet," said Blaise, thrusting it in front of Draco's nose.

Draco sighed and skimmed it quickly.

 _Last week, a frightening incident occurred at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the second time this school year. Hermione Granger, a second-year student at the school, found herself in a life-threatening situation for the second time in under 2 months, when she came face-to-face with a real boggart that had been set loose in a third floor corridor. Granger was hospitalised immediately, due to her already injured leg from the troll incident back on Halloween, and so she was unavailable for comment. However, Daily Prophet reporters were able to get quotes from a few students who swore they'd seen what had happened._

 _"It was Harry Potter!" exclaimed a vivacious Hufflepuff girl by the name of Hannah Abbott. "Everyone thinks it's highly coincidental that he happened to be there on the night of the troll incident as well!"_

 _The Boy Who Conquered, also son of James Potter, Head of the Auror Department, was in fact present on both days of said incidences and was able to rescue the Granger girl before she could be fatally injured. However, this mere coincidence has raised some serious questions among the staff and students at Hogwarts._

 _"Potter is a criminal," said Marcus Flint, a Slytherin student. "Everyone's been saying for years that he saved the wizarding world from the most evil wizard of all time—maybe he did it so that HE could be the most evil wizard of all time."_

 _When Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School, was cornered by a Daily Prophet reporter and asked to give a quote, he blatantly laughed and said, "These rumours are just that—rumours. They have always existed and will always exist, unfortunately. I can tell you that Ms. Granger is alive and well and most certainly does not blame Harry Potter for either incidences. In fact, had he not been there to rescue her both times, she might not be where she is today."_

 _But other staff members agree otherwise._

 _"Potter has a knack for poking his nose where it doesn't belong," said Severus Snape, current Potions Master at Hogwarts School. "It could be that he has now simply poked it one too many times."_

 _In fact, it is rather difficult for many to believe that Potter, a mere second-year at Hogwarts, was well educated enough to be able to defeat the troll on Halloween and the boggart last week, without the use of dark magic. Professor R.J Lupin, current Transfiguration teacher, said otherwise._

 _"Suddenly, everyone is forgetting that Harry is the son of the head of the Auror Office," Lupin said. "As his former Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, I can tell you that boggarts are covered in the third year curriculum. There is no reason why Harry can't already know how to handle them."_

 _"Suddenly, if you risk your own life to save another's, you become a criminal," he added._

"Hey, I didn't know his father is head of the aurors," said Crabbe, taking the newspaper from Draco and frowning down at it.

"I did," Draco mumbled.

"How?" said Goyle.

"Um, I dunno, I just did," said Draco.

Blaise grinned up at him.

"Isn't it great?" he said, gleefully. "Everyone thinks Potter's a criminal!"

"Yeah," said Draco, who could hardly believe his ears.

They actually did. They actually thought _he_ was a criminal.

"You okay?" said Avery, who finally joined the boys at the Slytherin table and had his eyes narrowed at Draco.

"What? Yeah, fine," said Draco.

"You don't look well, mate," said Blaise.

"You've been off for about a week now," said Avery.

"Yeah, you can tell us what's up," said Goyle.

"We won't tell," said Crabbe.

Draco looked at each of them and then shrugged.

"I've just been tired a lot, that's all," he lied.

Though, he gave himself away by half glancing at the Gryffindor table behind Blaise and Avery. They looked round at it too and then raised their eyebrows at Draco.

"What?" he said, innocently.

"We know who you're looking for," said Avery.

"So what?" said Draco.

"Are you going to tell us why you've been ignoring her for a week now or not?" demanded Blaise.

"No," said Draco, simply, and he jumped from his seat and exited the Great Hall without another word to them.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Well you don't _sound_ okay."

"I'm okay."

"Are you sure, Draco?"

"Yes, Hermione, for the fifteenth bloody time, I'm okay!"

"Fine."

"Fine."

Hermione was sitting on a chair in the hospital, with Draco right next to her. Madame Pomfrey had just left to get her a pain-free potion so that she would be able to sleep at night. Her arm and leg were heavily bandaged now, but she still looked well and happy. Though, Draco's distance the last couple of days had obviously angered her.

"Oh, will you just tell me what's wrong?!" she demanded, looking at him angrily.

"Nothing, okay?! EVERYTHING IS FINE. CAN'T YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE ALREADY?"

"LEAVE YOU ALONE?!" she bellowed. "IN CASE YOU HAVE FORGOTTEN, I DIDN'T TELL YOU TO FOLLOW ME HERE TODAY. _YOU_ DID THAT ON YOUR OWN, DRACO!"

Draco sighed in frustration and stormed out of the hospital wing before he could retaliate, leaving Hermione there, fuming.

He wasn't going to tell her. He couldn't. If he did, she would never look at him the same way again. Heck, he couldn't even tell his Slytherin friends, whom he was sure, would understand and would possibly even be able to relate to him. No. Hermione could not know. Absolutely not.

But by the time Draco got back to his dormitory and slumped on his bed, he felt terrible and almost turned around to find Hermione again. But the sight of his mother's latest letter sticking out from under his pillow kept him rooted to the spot. He closed his eyes, not needing to read it again for he had it completely memorised by now.

If only Hermione wasn't muggle-born…if only she was able to understand it, he'd just tell her everything…

XXXXXXXXXX

Draco stayed away from his friends for the rest of the day, wanting to be alone. He'd watched them leave the common room gleefully after breakfast, talking very quickly about pranking some girls who were waiting for that stupid Lockhart lecture tonight, but he didn't feel like joining in. He spent most of the day wandering about the castle, exploring new corridors and secret entrances, his mind scattered all the while.

How could his mother be so stupid? He was only 12 years old and far more capable of making good decisions than she. It was amazing to him how a grown person could be so ignorant and careless. Didn't she think about how this could affect him? Wasn't she at all worried that everything his father had done to keep them out of Azkaban was going to backfire and get exposed? No. Like always, she thought of herself and herself only. Some mother she was.

By the end of the day, Draco felt so miserable he almost convinced himself to hide up in the common room and skip the Lockhart lecture. But fear of getting into trouble again—and he really couldn't afford to—made him stride into that Great Hall in time for dinner.

"Where've you been all day? We looked for you!" cried Avery as Draco sat next to him.

"Out," he said, simply.

The food looked extremely colourful and fresh that evening, but Draco's appetite immediately disappeared when his eyes landed upon Hermione at the Gryffindor table, sitting with a redheaded girl, away from everyone else. Potter, Weasley and Longbottom strode into the Great Hall then, and everything became instantly quiet. Everyone watched as they slowly made their way over to where the girls sat. Draco growled under his breath.

"Oh look, here comes the criminal," said Avery with a large smirk.

But Draco did not smirk. He was furious. Hermione was sitting right across from the _enemy_! And willingly too!

Draco spent the rest of dinner watching Potter with vicious eyes, and a few times, Potter met his eyes and looked away quickly. Oh he knew. He knew that Draco was onto him. The question was why Hermione—being as clever as she was—did not?

After dinner, all Defense against the Dark Arts students gathered in the Entrance Hall and waited for the double oak doors to open. Draco stood with Avery among the noisy crowd, and watched Hermione giggling excitedly at the front. It was like she _wanted_ to make life difficult for him. It was like she purposely made friends with him so that her being muggle-born would make it all the more harder for him to tell her what he desperately needed to—and wanted to—tell her for a week now. This was maddening!

The double oak doors to the Great Hall opened then and Professor McGonagall stood, looking out at the students in the Entrance Hall who fell silent at once.

"Mr. Lockhart has arrived," she said, monotonously. "I ask you all to find a seat, any seat, and wait quietly for him to begin. QUIETLY."

Pushed and shoved among the crowd, Draco and Avery fought their way through to some seats in the middle of the Great Hall, which had been transformed into a sort of atrium. The four long house tables were gone and replacing them were hundreds of single chairs, all facing the front, where a man stood waiting. The man was smiling stupidly at the entering students, his lilac-coloured robes flowing down, his blond hair shining in the candlelight above, and his face clean—ever so clean.

"This should be good," Avery hissed into Draco's ear as the hall finally quieted down.

Draco smirked.

"Good evening!" said Gilderoy Lockhart, brightly. "As I am sure you all know very well by now, my name is Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin third class, honorary member of the Dark Force Defense League and five times winner of _Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile_ award." His smile widened even more and several girls up at the front of the room sighed softly. Draco rolled his eyes. "I have had the pleasure of being invited to your historic school to give a little speech about Dark Arts to you all. And I feel sure that at the end of this lecture, you will have gained not only a new outlook on the important subject, but also a new interest in _my_ career, and possibly a yearning to read the rest of my extraordinary works."

This time, he paused as though waiting for the crowd before him to cheer him on. When this did not happen, he awkwardly continued.

"Before we can go on to discussing the dark arts, let us discuss those who perform the dark arts and the means by which they do this…"

Draco found that drowning out the rest of the lecture was actually fairly easy. Just a few rows behind him, he could hear Crabbe and Goyle snoring already. Blaise had brought some cards and was busying himself with quietly levitating them to stick in random girls' hairs. And Avery was glancing at Draco every once in a while with a smirk. _He_ was actually listening to the lecture.

"…and given that I have Order of Merlin third class, am an honorary member…"

"…of the Dark Force Defense League," Draco and Avery mumbled in mockery, grinning amongst themselves.

"… _Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile_ award five times, I don't think you would say that I am a dark wizard at all," Lockhart concluded.

"No, not at all," said Avery, in a quiet, singsong voice.

Draco smirked.

"And as I mentioned before," said Lockhart, still more loudly now, "I am positive that this lecture will inspire you to buy the complete set of my books and read about how I have defended myself on countless occasions."

"This is mad!" Avery exclaimed once they'd exited the Great Hall and headed for the dungeons an hour later. "The lecture wasn't about dark arts—it was about him!"

"He just wanted us there so he could promote those stupid books of his," said Blaise.

"I'm telling you—I'm never attending another lecture like that for as long as I live," declared Avery.

"Deal," said Draco, firmly.

When they got back to the common room, they pulled out Blaise's deck of cards (what was left of it anyway) and began to play so they could distress and throw all the useless information that Lockhart had just fed them out of their brains. They played until the early hours of the morning, and Draco felt really grateful that for just a couple of hours, he was able to forget all about his mother's unnerving letter, which lay hidden under his pillow upstairs.

The next day, Draco awoke earlier than the others (who'd decided to sleep in) and crept out of the dormitory. He pulled on his school robes and snuck out of the silent common room. His intention was to go to the library and get a book he needed for a crucial Herbology assignment, and it was important that he did this at a time where he wouldn't bump into—

"DRACO!"

He froze.

"Draco, turn around and look at me!"

Heart thumping, ears ringing, Draco slowly turned on his heel to face Hermione.

"Your crutches!" he exclaimed, looking down at her bandage-free leg. "They're gone!"

"Yes, I'm nearly all better now," she said, dismissively. "But that's not why I'm here."

"W-why are you…?"

"You have been ignoring me for a week now!" she hissed, pulling him to the side of the library entrance door and practically cornering him there in the hallway. "You are not going to get away from me now."

"What are you—?"

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice?" she demanded. "I know you more than anyone else in this world does—I am your best friend!"

"Hermione, calm—"

"—down?" she cried. "I _hate_ it when people tell me to 'calm down'. It makes me very tense!"

"OKAY!" he cried, pulling her arms (which were shoving him against the wall) away. "Okay, I hear you!"

Hermione released him and sighed satisfactorily.

"Now," she said, in a calmer voice, "Tell me why you have been ignoring me. Tell me why you've been acting so strangely."

Draco sighed and looked around the corridor.

"Not here," he said, and ignoring Hermione's look of protest, he led her away.

They walked in silence all the way to the Astronomy Tower, where Draco insisted they climb to the very top if Hermione really wanted answers out of him. She did so without protest, and looked up at him, puzzled, as he finally sat her down.

"Well?" she said, waiting.

Draco took a deep breath.

"I got a letter from my mother about a week ago," he began. Hermione knew not to interrupt once he got going, so she waited patiently for him to continue, and once he'd finished, she was gaping at him.

"I can't believe it," she said, exasperatedly. "I just…I can't believe it."

"Yeah well, believe it cause it's true," said Draco, dully.

He finally stopped pacing and took a seat next to her, his head in his hands now.

"And you've never known this?" Hermione asked.

Draco shook his head.

"But then why would she go and visit her?"

"Because she's stupid!" Draco cried, getting to his feet again.

"Draco, don't talk about your mother like that," said Hermione, softly.

"Well, it's true, Hermione!" he yelled. "She doesn't care what she does—she only thinks of herself!"

"Well no," said Hermione, "That's not true. She was thinking of her sister—that's why she went to visit her!"

"Oh don't start trying to be rational," Draco snapped. "It is what it is."

"And what exactly is it?"

"My aunt is a bloody Death Eater and a psychotic one too, and my mother is openly going to visit her—against my father's wishes, I might add—because to her it's just fun and games."

"But Draco—"

"She is not even thinking about everything father had to do to get them out of Azkaban when the war ended!"

Hermione closed her mouth again, knowing that Draco needed to vent about this. It seemed that a whole week's silence was now pouring out of him like canon fire.

"Hang on," she said, once he'd finished and a moment of silence had passed. "Sirius Black's brother…is he…?"

"Yeah," said Draco, a lump in his throat now. "Yeah he's locked up too."

"My goodness," whispered Hermione. "I…I had no idea."

"Yeah. Me too. Imagine my shock finding this out."

Hermione nodded.

"Look," said Draco, taking a seat next to her again. "This is why I've been off lately. I wanted to tell you all this but I didn't think you'd understand. I…" he bit his lip. "I…I don't expect you to understand."

"And why not?" said Hermione, in a small voice.

"Well because you're new to the wizarding world!" said Draco. "It…look, I get it, okay? I don't blame you. I just…I just hope that you can still…still look at me…like…like m-me."

"Draco, stop," said Hermione at once, having finally understood what he was going on about. "Your aunt and cousin being in Azkaban does not change anything, alright?"

"But—"

" _The sooner you get this into your head, the sooner we can leave this tower because I'm freezing_ ," she hissed.

Draco sighed and gave her the biggest, warmest hug he could ever remember giving her. She hugged him back just as strongly and then, smiling at him, let him help her to her feet and lead her out of the freezing Astronomy Tower.

Well, he sure felt stupid now about keeping this from her for a week. He could've felt a lot better about this before, instead of holding on to it for so long. But no matter, it was over now. And Hermione, to Draco's greatest relief, still looked at him the same way she had that day they met in the meadow, nearly a year and a half before.

About a week before Christmas, Draco received a letter that turned his insides upside-down. He left Avery's side at once and darted off to the common room, where he could read it in private. Fingers trembling, Draco unfolded the letter with his father's handwriting and read:

 _What in the bloody hell could have persuaded you that_ I _sent you a stupid quill? Get your head out of the clouds, kid, and don't bother me again with such nonsense!_

* * *

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked for the third time that night.

"Yeah," said Draco.

"Are we going to do this again?" she repeated.

He looked at her apologetically. She was right. The last time he had kept a letter from her, she had had to corner him outside the library so that he'd talk to her. He wasn't going to repeat the same mistake again. And so he told her. And she listened. And when he was finished, she gave him a hug he had not been expecting.

"What's that for?" he asked, gently patting her on the back.

"I…" she said, releasing him and mopping her eyes. "I'm just sorry that you're getting this kind of unfair treatment, that's all."

Draco gaped at her.

"I-it's alright, Hermione," he said, gently. "You don't have to cry because of my father. He's not worth it."

Hermione nodded into her sleeve and then straightened up.

"Draco!" she gasped. "I know who it's from!"

Draco stared at her.

"Don't you remember when Snape sent you that broomstick?"

"The Nimbus 2001?" said Draco. "Well, yeah but he did that because…well…"

"It's him!" cried Hermione. "I know it is! I know it is!"

Draco stared at her and then nodded. He wasn't even sure what he believed anymore, but Hermione was making more sense than the voice inside his head that was screaming at him almost nightly.

"So you're really not going to go home for the holidays?" she asked.

"Absolutely not," said Draco.

"Do you want to come to my house?"

"No," he said, quickly. At the hurt look on Hermione's face, he added, "No thanks. I don't want to interfere and stuff."

"You wouldn't be interfering!" said Hermione at once, but Draco merely smiled at her.

The next out-of-the-ordinary thing that occurred was the Potions lesson on the last Monday before the holiday break. Not only did Snape arrive to his own classroom after all the students had been waiting for ten minutes already, but he was so distracted that he tumbled over his desk a couple of times. Draco had never seen him so agitated. He wasn't nervous or jumpy or anything, but he was definitely acting very uncharacteristically.

He assigned the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs a random potion to brew for that day's lesson, and then spent the rest of the hour and a half at his desk, writing furiously on a piece of parchment. Draco watched him the entire time, wondering if now was a good time to come up to him and ask what was up. But, he figured Snape would send him away at once, refusing to discuss it in front of other students. He would just have to wait until the end of the lesson.

But when the end of the lesson arrived however, Snape was the first one to fly out of his office, long before any of the students could so much as rise from their seats. Draco was not the only one who had noticed either. Everyone was staring after Snape and muttering to each other, "What's wrong with him today?!"

"See you guys later," Draco muttered to Avery and Blaise, and he darted out the door after Snape.

But no matter where he looked, he could not find the professor. It was as though he'd vanished from the Hogwarts grounds completely. Draco had even broken into his office, so sure that he was hiding in there. But the office was abysmally empty, to Draco's ecstasy. Feeling disappointed, he turned around and walked back to find Avery and Blaise for a game of Exploding Snap. He needed to put his mind to sleep. It was about time.

On the last day before the holidays, Avery dragged Draco out for a walk about the snowy grounds, while Blaise and the other stayed behind to pack.

"So," said Avery, pulling his scarf more tightly around his neck and shivering against the cold. "Talk to me."

"About what?" Draco muttered, his eyes on the frozen lake ahead.

"About that miserable oaf's strange dog, what do you think?!" said Avery.

"Hagrid?" said Draco, distractedly.

"Oh bloody, DRACO!"

Draco looked round at him.

"You're not listening to me!" said Avery.

"S-sorry," said Draco, turning back to the lake. "Must've—"

"Dozed off? Daydreamed? Yeah, been there, done that," said Avery, dully. "Come on mate, this isn't you. Something's up and I demand you tell me right now."

"I-it's nothing," said Draco. "Please, let's just talk about something else."

"Fine," said Avery. "How come you're not going home for the holidays?"

"Cause I don't feel like it, alright?" said Draco, irritably.

They walked along the frozen lake's shore in silence, listening to howling wind around them.

"It's bloody cold out here," said Draco, finally. "Why can't we just talk inside?"

"Bit of fresh air will help clear your mind," said Avery, simply.

Draco raised an eyebrow at him.

"Or at least that's what I've heard," Avery smirked.

Draco chuckled.

"Look," said Avery, his face suddenly serious. "If you want, I could stay for the holidays too."

"No," said Draco, quickly. "No, that's fine. You go ahead."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

They walked on in silence, Draco's mind always on Snape and what on earth could have happened to make him so agitated. Every time Draco tried to talk to him, Snape disappeared. He was deliberately avoiding him for some very strange reason Draco could not think of.

"Okay so I bet this'll cheer you up," said Avery, stopping suddenly.

Draco turned to look at him.

"The latest word is that Potter is the Heir of Slytherin."

It took a moment for the meaning of these words to reach Draco. He stared blankly at Avery and then let out a cold laugh, followed by a slight shiver.

"It's true!" said Avery. "Look, you've heard of the legend of the Chamber of Secrets, right?"

"Yeah," said Draco.

"Okay well everyone is saying it now. They all think that Potter was misplaced—mis-sorted. That he actually belongs in Slytherin."

"Rubbish!" said Draco.

"That's what I thought too," said Avery, "But think about it…haven't you heard the stories of what the Dark Lord was like when he was at school?"

Draco shook his head.

"Wait, aren't you a Malfoy?" said Avery, incredulously.

"I'm not exactly best pals with my parents," Draco muttered.

"Ah okay well I'll tell you then," said Avery, simply. "Basically, the Dark Lord—his name was Tom Riddle at the time—was one of the best students at the school. My father told me this. He heard it from his father."

"And?" said Draco, impatiently.

"Well okay so he basically was a prefect and then Head Boy. All the teachers adored him—including good old Slughorn."

"Slughorn taught him?" cried Draco.

"Yeah, can you believe it?" said Avery. "Anyway, he was looked up to by all his mates and adored being adoration. Remind you of anyone?"

Draco laughed.

"What?" said Avery.

"Don't be stupid, Aves," said Draco. "Look, you know that you were the one who put that boggart in the hallway, which by the way, I never fully forgave you for—"

"Noted," said Avery, smirking.

"—so you can't believe that Potter has been deliberately attacking people since you did set him up."

"Okay, that's true," said Avery. "But haven't you noticed the way he's been keeping your pal Granger close to him as of late?"

"So what?" said Draco, trying hard not to show that it did bother him a great deal.

"Look, a friend of mine said he heard Potter telling that Seamus Finnigan bloke that he was going to pull an attack on Granger, now that she trusts him and everything."

"What are you talking about?"

"He's planning to do something," said Avery. "And I just thought I'd let you know so that you could warn your little girlfriend that she's in danger."

"But why would Potter target her?" Draco wondered.

"Because she's muggle-born?"

Draco laughed.

"Are you forgetting that he's a muggle-born lover?" he said.

"And are you forgetting that he's a sucker for fame?" said Avery, cocking an eyebrow. "He's probably doing this to get more attention, since things have been pretty quiet on his front until these attacks."

Draco thought for a minute.

"Which friend was this? That told you what Potter said, I mean."

"You don't know him," said Avery, simply. "He's an older student—a Slytherin, of course."

"Ah," said Draco.

"What, you don't believe me?" said Avery. "Are you suddenly on _Potter's_ side?"

"What? NO!" cried Draco. "I…of course I believe you."

"Then you'll warn Granger?"

"What? Yeah…yeah I will."

"Good."

Draco hesitated.

"Why are you so suddenly worried about Granger?" he asked, his eyes narrowed at Avery as he stopped walking again.

"I'm not," said Avery, and he looked it too. "But I don't want a repeat of what happened that night with the boggart. We never meant for it to be her, you know that, right?"

Draco nodded slowly.

"I don't want you to be mad at us," said Avery. "So I'm laying off her. I'll make fun of all the Gryffindors I want but Granger is off limits."

Draco gaped at him.

"You're welcome," grinned Avery.

At last the term ended, and a silence deep as the snow on the grounds descended the castle. Draco was the only Slytherin who had stayed for the holidays, and he found it to be quite peaceful, rather than gloomy. On the upside, neither Potter nor Weasley or anybody else he disliked had chosen to stay, which made him free to wander the castle as he pleased. The downside, however, was that Snape had also gone, without so much as a word to Draco. For the first time in his life, he really was, truly, all alone.

The Great Hall at least looked magnificent as Christmas Day drew nearer. Not only were there a dozen frost-covered Christmas trees and thick streamers of holly and mistletoe crisscrossing the ceiling, but enchanted snow was falling, warm and dry, from the ceiling. Draco was never one to be big on Christmas spirits, but it did make him feel slightly happier inside. During the days, he wandered around the silent castle freely, occasionally spotting a ghost. During the nights, he enjoyed the emptiness of the common room and did whatever he wanted—jumped on any couch he wanted, sat at any spot he wanted, and slept in any bed he wanted.

On Christmas Eve, Draco joined the few other students who had stayed behind in the Great Hall for the Christmas Feast with all the teachers. Attendance was of course required. Otherwise, Draco would have stayed behind in his common room and then snuck into the kitchens later for some food. He had absolutely no desire whatsoever to have Christmas dinner with the Hogwarts professors, who would no doubt look down at him with pity.

He entered the Great Hall with his hands in his pockets and slowly strode forwards to the staff table, where the few students who had stayed behind were seated with the teachers. Draco noticed, as he approached them, that Snape was not the only one away from the festivities. Lupin was also missing.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy!" said Dumbledore, brightly. "Come and sit with us."

Draco forced his feet to move as he climbed up the two steps and took the seat to the far right.

"Good, now that we are all here, let us enjoy this magnificent feast!" said Dumbledore, and with the clap of his hands, loads of bright, colourful food appeared on the table.

The feast really was excellent, but Draco remained silent as he ate, listening to the others talking. Dumbledore soon led them through a chorus of his favourite Christmas carols as the Eggnog was passing around the table. Draco stayed until the first teacher excused themselves for the night, and then got to his feet and announced that he'd get to bed as well. Once back in the safety of his common room, he spread out on the couch and closed his eyes, feeling very tired from all the food. This was better—loads better—than going home and eating horribly cooked food while listening to his parents have at each other. And as he slowly drifted off to sleep, he wondered what on earth had persuaded him to go home for the holidays last year. This would be the start of a very wonderful new tradition in his life.

Draco awoke on Christmas morning to a small pile of gifts on the table by the couch on which he had fallen asleep. Curious, he ripped them open and lovingly eyed the new book that Hermione had got for him (it was _not_ one of Lockhart's!). His mother had made him a new scarf and Crabbe and Goyle had bought him large packs of chocolate frogs. Blaise had given him a brand new set of Wizard's Chess, and Avery…a broom. Draco gaped at it as he eyed his new, very own Comet. The note strapped to it read,

 _Aren't we Slytherins so cruel?_

Draco laughed out loud.

Blimey, this must have cost Avery a _fortune!_ But it was so beautiful, so nice and so shiny. Forgetting about the last unopened present on the floor beside him, he jumped to his feet, got dressed quickly, and darted out the door to try out his new broom.

It wasn't anything like the Nimbus 2001, but it was still very, very nice and definitely praiseworthy. Draco made a mental note to thank Avery a thousand times when he got back from the holidays. When he returned to the common room, he finally noticed the remaining package. He set his broom on the couch and dropped to his knees to open them. The first was from Snape…a brand new ink bottle. Draco frowned at it as realisation dawned upon him. Hermione had been right. The quill _was_ from him. He really had a knack for giving himself away, Snape did. Smiling slightly, Draco put his things away and went down to the Great Hall for the Christmas morning tea, feeling happier about himself than he had all year.

When Avery returned to Hogwarts after the holidays, he and Draco practically jumped at each other, both of them screaming "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle stared at them. Apparently, Avery had really liked the skull that Draco had nicked from his father's study back in the summer.

"You don't understand," said Avery as he and the others finally got back to the common room. "Borgin doesn't sell these anymore—they're really hard to find now. Vintage and rare. I bet this'll be worth a fortune in a few years' time!"

Draco shrugged. He hadn't thought much of the gift, but was glad Avery liked it because it was the best he could do, given his money situation. Still, he felt a bit bad that he couldn't get him anything better, considering the wonderful new broom that he'd gotten in return.

"You really should've have," he told Avery, but Avery waved his hand at him.

"We need to win the Quidditch cup this year," he said.

"Well I've got the Nimbus!" said Draco.

"Yeah, but you can use the comet for practice—that way, you don't wear out the Nimbus. Save it for the real games."

Draco sighed and nodded.

"No filthy mudblood will get their hands on this," said Avery, gleefully, as he set his new skull on his bedside table up in the dormitory.

Draco flinched slightly at the word, but decided not to say anything about it. He didn't want to ruin the mood. He was finally really getting along with his housemates and he didn't want to risk ruining that.

When Draco finally saw Hermione in the library two days later, he told her that she had been right about Snape and the quill.

"I knew it!" she said, gleefully. "By the way, thanks for the book."

"Thank _you_ for the book," said Draco.

Hermione beamed at him.

"So I take it your holidays were good?"

"Yeah, yours?"

"Very good—only mum and dad got a bit worried when they saw the cast, but I assured them that I'm fine."

"Are you?" said Draco, and when Hermione gave him a questioning look, he hastily added, "Fine, I mean."

"Yeah, of course I am," she said, laughing.

Draco bit his lip.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Look you…I don't think you should hang around Potter and his mates that much."

"What?" said Hermione.

"It's…look, he's not…who you think h-he is."

There was a pause.

"And how do you know this exactly?"

"I just do!"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Don't tell me you're starting to believe this nonsense about my mind being tempered with too!" she exclaimed. "Because it's just that, Draco—nonsense! My mind is fine! _I'm_ fine!"

Draco nodded.

"You know, I'm getting really tired of hearing people telling me that I'm not fine," she said, irritably. "Everyone thinks I'm mental for some reason—unstable or not myself. No one believes me!"

"I do," said Draco, grinning.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him again.

"So," she said. "What is it you wanted to talk to me about? It sounded urgent."

"Right," said Draco, finally remembering what he'd realised so long ago. "It's about Lupin."

"Professor Lupin?" Hermione repeated, lowering her voice so that the others at the library wouldn't hear them. "What about him?"

"Well, back when I had my detention with him," Draco began, "I asked him about why he's always sick…and about why he's taken on Transfiguration this year and switched with McGonagall."

"And?"

"And he said it fitted his schedule best because he has some kind of condition that makes him sick."

"Okay…"

"But don't you think it's a bit weird? Suspicious?" Draco said. "I dunno…I….I have some theories as to what his condition could be…but I feel like he's hiding something…and that Dumbledore knows."

"So what if he is? And so what if he does?" said Hermione.

"Aren't you at all curious?" said Draco, incredulously.

"Well, yeah of course I'm curious," said Hermione, slowly, "But I've had more important things on my mind this year to worry about it."

She lifted her bandaged arm ever so slightly and smirked at Draco. He smiled back.

"Yeah, I guess not," he mumbled, feeling quite disappointed that she hadn't shown more interest in the subject.

Snape was still avoiding Draco as best as he could, and Draco did not dare approach him during class. He knew this conversation would have to take place somewhere safe from nosey people. He knew that whatever Snape would tell him would be very important and very secret. So, he learned to be patient and simply waited for the perfect moment when he could corner Snape and demand to know what was going on. Luckily, Snape had stopped acting weird so whatever it was that had been wrong must have been resolved by now.

Near the end of January, Draco had concluded that Potter was definitely planning something. He'd been watching him carefully and saw the way he was always so jumpy and looking around nervously. He had guilt written all over his face. And whenever Hermione was not with him, she was with Potter. This was so not like her. Avery was right—her mind _was_ being tampered with.

"IT IS NOT!" Hermione shrieked when Draco pointed this out to her up at the Astronomy Tower one night. "I SWEAR, IF YOU DON'T STOP TELLING ME THIS—"

"Hermione, it's not your fault!" Draco yelled. "I'm not blaming you—I'm trying to protect you!"

"Well, stop trying then!" she yelled back, startling Draco. "Look, I know you mean well but you're not making any sense. I know for myself if my mind is alright or not, okay?"

But Draco did not want to accept this. It really bothered him the way she spent more and more time with Potter and Wealebee.

"Look, they told me some things the other night," she said, a bit more calmly now.

"Yeah?" said Draco, bitterly.

"They talked to Moaning Myrtle. She's this ghost who haunts the girls' bathroom on the third floor, you know? Anyway, she was here at school when the Dark Lord was here at school. She told them some things about him and Harry was later worried that we all saw him as a miniature Dark Lord. He was _worried_ , Draco, not proud. WORRIED."

"And your point is?"

"My point is, if he was actually ill-intentioned, he wouldn't be worried, would he?"

Draco rolled his eyes at her.

"WHAT?!" she demanded, angrily.

"Has it not occurred to you that they are brainwashing you, Hermione?!" Draco hissed.

But Hermione had apparently had enough. She jumped to her feet and stalked off angrily, leaving Draco alone up in the freezing Astronomy Tower.

February was not as bad a month as January had been. Draco's classes were going very well and Quidditch practice couldn't have been better, thanks to Avery's amazing Christmas gift. But Hermione was still delusional—still hopelessly willing to hang around Potter and Weaselbee. Draco was growing hopeless.

"She just won't listen to me!" he told Avery many times, but Avery merely shrugged. There was nothing any of them could do. Hermione was her own person, unfortunately, free to do as she pleased. But it still pained Draco to see her walking around with that cast, knowing that Potter could do a lot worse to her if he wanted to. His father was, after all, head of the Auror Office. He was probably very learned in the magical arts and no matter how many books Hermione might have read, she was not as experienced as he no doubt was.

"Will you _please_ just listen to me?" she told him for the hundredth time when he raised his concerns yet again one night at the library. "Whoever's told you that Harry is planning something made it up! Just like they made up all these rumours about me being brainwashed."

"Hermione," said Draco, through gritted teeth.

"You can't go believing everything you hear, Draco!" she cried. "Think for yourself from now on—use your own head, before others use it for you."

She let the impact of these words hit him hard as she left him in the library and returned to her common room. Draco, who was completely speechless at this, returned to his own common room quite late, and only realised this when he saw that it was nearly empty, with the exception of one Pansy Parkinson, who was sitting by the fire.

"About time you showed up," she said, exhaustively. She got to her feet and stretched.

"What…?" said Draco.

"Blaise and Avery asked me to keep watch until you got back," she said, casually. "They were too tired to wait up for you."

"Why does anyone have to keep watch for me?" Draco demanded.

"Because foolish boys often make foolish mistakes," said Pansy, simply.

Draco opened his mouth to retaliate but she climbed up to her dormitory, ignoring him. He remained in the empty common room for a long time before he finally went off to bed. _Like he could sleep now_ , he thought.

Finally, just at the end of February, on one glorious Potions lesson, Snape said, "Draco Malfoy."

Draco moved from his desk slowly and steadily, feeling students' eyes on his back as he approaching Snape's desk.

"I'd like you to stay after class," said Snape, simply.

"Yes, sir," said Draco, with a small smile that Snape caught but ignored.

And so, Draco watched the watch on Blaise's wrist until the very end of the lesson—until the glorious bell finally sounded across the castle grounds, announcing dismissal. Students jumped from their desks, quickly packed their things, and raced out the door for lunch. Draco waited patiently at his desk, and when Avery finally left, closing the door behind him, Draco practically jumped to Snape's desk.

"What's up?" he demanded, eagerly.

Snape smiled at him softly, but sat back in his chair and closed his eyes.

"Everything is fine," he said, in a slow murmur. "Everything is just fine."

"But what happened that day?" said Draco, taking a seat across from him.

Snape opened his eyes and looked at him curiously.

"I found out that your mother visited Bellatrix Lestrange in Azkaban," he said, wearily.

"Oh," said Draco, puzzled. "Wait—that's it?"

Snape raised an eyebrow.

"That's it?" he repeated, slowly. "It's a big deal, Draco. Your father worked very hard to keep him and your mother out of Azkaban at the end of the war. It took a lot of persuading the ministry. I would know—I was there."

Draco nodded slowly.

"I agree it was stupid of her," he said, quietly, "But I didn't know that's why you were so…"

"Agitated, yes," said Snape. "I have spent nearly all of your life protecting you—protecting your family…doing everything in my power…"

"And mother almost threw it all away for the sake of one visit," Draco said, nodding. "Yeah, I get it."

Snape nodded too.

"It was foolish," he added.

"Yeah," said Draco. "But it's fine, though, isn't it? She didn't cause any trouble, did she?"

"No," said Snape. "No, she did not. But she's lucky though. It could have easily gone wrong."

There was a long moment of silence as Draco considered Snape's tired-looking face.

"Sev," he said, finally. Snape opened his eyes to look at him again. "I…well, I'm sure you've noticed all the talks that have been going around school about…about…"

"Potter," said Snape, lazily. Draco nodded. "And?"

"Well…I wanted to know what you think…"

"You wanted to know where I doubt Potter," said Snape, coolly.

Draco nodded slowly. There was a long moment of silence.

"I do not know what Potter is, nor do I care, to be perfectly honest with you," said Snape. "His father enjoyed far too much attention when he was at school here, and I am not about to give his son the satisfaction of getting the same."

"What was his father like?" Draco wondered. "You never talk about him."

"There is nothing to talk about," said Snape, simply. "He was—still is—arrogant, boasting, proud and too cocky for his own good. He loved to make others feel small."

"Runs in the family," Draco muttered.

"You should not be so concerned with the Potters, Draco," said Snape, worriedly but calmly. "There are far more important things in life than ignorant little people."

"What about Sirius?" Draco blurted out before he could stop himself. He shut his eyes and silently scolded himself for being so reckless.

"What about him?" Snape muttered.

Well, if the cat was already out of the bag…

"What was he like as a child?"

"Exactly the same as Potter," said Snape, coolly.

"Really?" said Draco, surprised. "Because…because Lupin said…"

"Lupin was no different," said Snape. "Those three were the most ignorant students in the school. I hated the lot of them."

Draco nodded fervently.

"Do not ask me about it again," Snape added, and Draco nodded again.

"Wait Sev," he said, shortly. "Just one more question, I promise—but did you really not know that Sirius is my mother's cousin? You did know, didn't you?"

Snape hesitated.

"I won't be mad, I promise," Draco added.

"Yes," said Snape, finally. "I did know."

"Of course you did," said Draco, smiling to himself that his suspicions had been right. "Hey Sev," he added, now remembering something else. "Professor Lupin…"

"What about him?"

"Is he…do you know what's wrong with him?"

"Ah, that," said Snape. "I am not allowed to tell anyone, but let's just say he is far worse than he might seem."

Draco nodded, remembering how the professor's scars had grown considerably over the last few weeks. His eyes landed on one of the cupboards behind Snape and he frowned at a purple bottle labeled Polyjuice.

"Draco, you ought to go to lunch now," said Snape, closing his eyes again and resting his head on the chair.

"Okay," said Draco, getting to his feet.

He went back to his desk and retrieved his bag. When he reached the door however, he stopped and turned around to face Snape again.

"Thanks for the quill," he said, in a small voice. "And the ink bottle. I loved them."

He caught sight of Snape's jet black eyes opening to look at him before he left the Potions room. His mind was racing again as he walked, not paying attention to where he was going.

How _could_ he have not thought of it before? It was the simplest solution to all of his problems. To convince Hermione, he would have to convince himself that what he knew about Potter was in fact true. And what better way to find out, than with the use of the amazing and incredible Polyjuice Potion?

* * *

 **Make sure to tune in tomorrow for the next chapter update! I promise, it's significantly shorter. I never intended for this chapter to be so damn long. But what's the phrase, "A tale grew in the telling?" It really did.**


	17. Year 2: Digging For Answers

**There. As promised, two chapters one day after another. Enjoy XD**

 **Disclaimer : Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks **

* * *

CHAPTER 17: YEAR 2—DIGGING FOR ANSWERS

* * *

 _Harry_

* * *

"Anything?" said Neville, eagerly.

"No," said Harry, who was looking through the letters that Hedwig had dropped on the table in front of him. "Nothing."

"Darn," said Neville.

Darn, indeed.

A week had passed since Harry had written to Sirius, and he was still waiting for an answer. This was very unusual and so unlike Sirius. It wasn't like he was super far away right now either. Something was wrong. Maybe Sirius had now decided to believe all these stupid rumours too. Maybe he now doubted Harry as well.

"You should eat some breakfast, Harry," Ginny pointed out.

"No, thanks," he said, bitterly shoving the letters away.

"Well, what are these?" said Ron, picking some of them up and examining them.

"Threats," said Harry.

Ron stared at him.

"I've been getting them a lot lately," said Harry.

"Wow, these are really horrible," said Ron as he opened one and read it.

Harry shrugged.

"Mate, you're really being harassed here," said Ron, suddenly.

"Dumbledore should see these," said Neville. Harry ignored him. "So I take it you still haven't gone to see him?"

"Nope," said Harry. He got up, pulled his bag over his shoulder, and left the Great Hall.

He was not going to go see Dumbledore. No way—not after last time, when Dumbledore had got him all spooked by revealing that Voldemort could basically return one day. He was not ready to hear something like that again. Not now.

Harry did not pay much attention in his classes that day. He was not paying attention at all for a few days now, and Neville, having taken pity on him, had written a fair number of essays for him. Harry knew his mother would _kill_ him if she knew. But he did not have time to think about that right now.

He was also falling behind in Quidditch and Wood had to sit him down for a talk several times.

"Look, you're one of the best players on this team," he said. "But you're really falling this year—picking fights? Missing out on practice? It's got to stop, Harry! I mean, if you want that Quidditch cup…you do want it, don't you, Harry?"

"What? Yeah, yeah I do," said Harry, distractedly. "I'm sorry—I'll pick up the slack. I won't miss any more practices, I promise."

"You'd better not," Wood warned.

"I won't," Harry repeated.

When the next week crawled in and Harry had still not heard from Sirius, he grew worried, and said this much to Remus over their Tuesday lunch on the last week of January.

"Sirius is not at Hogsmeade right now, Harry," said Remus, who looked like he regretted having to say this.

"What?" gasped Harry. "But where is he then?"

"He had to leave town for a little while—don't worry, he'll be back soon."

"But where—?"

"I'm not sure," said Remus.

He reached for his goblet of juice and winced again, bringing his arm to his hip.

"Y-you okay?" said Harry, throwing Sirius out of his mind.

"Y-yeah," croaked Remus, whose eyes were shut tight now.

Harry picked up the juice goblet and placed it in Remus' open hand on the desk.

"Thanks," he whispered, taking a sip from it.

Harry watched him with concern, and Remus, noticing this, quickly flashed him a smile and continued telling the story that he'd begun (about Harry's father) before Harry had interrupted him with his concerns for Sirius.

When Harry had left Remus' office and headed back to the common room, his mind had been wandering to that dark place again when he suddenly heard voices sounding from the end of the corridor. He quickly pulled out his cloak from his bag and pulled it over his head. He walked to the end of the corridor to find that the voices were coming from Hermione and Malfoy, who appeared to be arguing.

"I've told you many times!" Hermione was saying.

"And _I've_ told _you!"_ Malfoy retaliated, quite angrily. "Do _not_ hang out with him. Do you understand me?"

"I will hang out with whomever I want to hang out, thanks!" Hermione hissed.

"HERMIONE!" shouted Malfoy, and he frightened her a great deal by doing so, for she'd jumped back a whole step from him. Harry had never thought he'd seen Malfoy so angry. His face was pale and his eyes were bulging—almost red with fury—as he glared down at her. "I mean it— _stay away from Harry Potter_."

And with that, he turned around and stormed down the corridor, leaving Hermione there by herself, gaping at him as he marched.

Later that night, Harry saw Hermione in the common room and she appeared to be just fine, as though that conversation with Malfoy had not occurred. Harry therefore decided not to mention it to Ron or Neville. The less people knew the better. He'd had to learn that the hard way this year, but he'd learned it alright. Still, it bothered him a great deal that Malfoy had forbid Hermione from talking to him, and he did not even know why. It wasn't like he was all that fond of her. She still annoyed him a lot. Perhaps it was the way Malfoy had said it…as though Harry was the danger. Harry's heart skipped a beat. _Was_ he the danger? Could there possibly be a way for him to be bad and not even know it?

As March slowly progressed, the rumours circulating around Harry died down just a little bit, and so he was able to better focus on Quidditch, like he'd promised Wood. Gryffindor won the next two matches, which was a relief to Harry. He really wanted the school to see how happy he was about _Gryffindor_ winning, so that he couldn't be associated with Slytherin in any way.

When he wasn't focused on Quidditch, Harry was trying to catch up with his homework so that Neville wasn't doing it all for him. He also took the liberty of visiting Hagrid a couple of times, though he always regretted it afterwards because Hagrid would rant about weird monstrous creatures that fascinated _him_ a great deal, but bored Harry to death. And so, Harry spent most of his days playing in the common room with Ron or listening to Neville lay out more theories as to who could be trying to frame Harry like so. It seemed, the three had concluded, that there were just too many coincidences going on.

Harry knew that Ron and Neville had not given Moaning Myrtle a thought since that night, but for him, it was all that was on his mind. He kept repeating her words in his head over and over again, and kept creating images of himself standing next to a teenaged Voldemort, and the both of them becoming one monstrous being. The thought always frightened Harry and brought nightmares into his bed almost daily. It got so bad that he was getting barely 4 or 5 hours of sleep per night, and the rest of the time he spent rocking back and forth in his bed, with his arms curled around his knees, his eyes staring nervously out the window into the starry night.

Near the end of March, Neville began the usual badgering of Harry and Ron about end-of-term exams.

"We've got nearly three whole months!" Ron cried, exasperatedly.

"It's never too early to begin revising!" said Neville.

"Ugh, you sound just like Hermione," Harry groaned.

Ron nodded fervently, but Neville ignored them both and laid out the books in front of him on the Gryffindor table.

"You of all people should take these exams seriously, Harry," he said as he arranged and rearranged the books. "Your mum doesn't know that your mind's been missing from lessons all year, does she?"

"What are you talking about? My mind's not been missing from lessons!" said Harry, defensively.

"Oh really?" said Neville, cocking an eyebrow. "Well then, tell me the properties of the mandrake root. Go on."

"Well, that's Herbology," said Ron, dismissively. "No one's mind attends those lessons."

Harry nodded.

"Fine," said Neville, "Then what about the definition of a bezoar?"

Harry thought.

"What subject is that for?" he asked.

"Potions," said Neville.

"Okay well that's _Potions_ ," said Harry, immediately. "It's Slughorn—I don't listen to him."

"Right," said Neville. "And for Transfiguration, your excuse is that you spend most of it worrying about Remus so you don't listen to him either. And with McGonagall, it's hard to get used to her highly-theoretical methods of approaching the subject. And Flitwick's voice is too squeaky for you to concentrate in Charms and—"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" cried Harry. "Fine, you're right. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Yes," said Neville, simply. "So, if you start studying now, your mother will never have to know that you weren't paying attention this whole year."

"Fine," grumbled Harry, and he threw the bit of toast that he was about to bite back into his plate and folded his arms on the table angrily.

"Worrying about Remus?" said Ron, who was wearing a frown. "Why?"

Harry and Neville glanced at each other.

"No reason," Harry said, casually, but he would be stupid to think that Ron believed him.

By the start of April, Harry was caught up in almost every single subject, thanks to Neville's great tutoring. Ron was okay, but he didn't really care about his grades so he spent most of these tutoring sessions talking to Fred and George about the latest gossip on the fourth years. Apparently, Fred and George knew who had pulled the Halloween prank and they confirmed that it was not the same people who'd released the boggart.

"So you don't know who it was then?" Neville asked them, one night in the common room.

"Nope," said Fred and George, together. "It was no one in Gryffindor."

"Wish you'd say that a little bit louder so everyone else would hear you," Harry muttered. "They might think you said 'it was someone _definitely_ in Gryffindor'."

"Oh don't pout," said George. "So the whole school thinks that you're going to grow up to become Voldemort the Second."

"Big deal," said Fred.

"Thanks guys," said Harry, mocking gratitude.

After Fred and George left them, Neville took out several charts that he'd prepared and spread them out on the coffee table in front of the fireplace.

"What are these?" said Harry.

"Theories we've been preparing," said Ron, who crouched down beside Neville and examined the charts.

"Theories?" said Harry, narrowing his eyes on one of the charts and attempting to read it upside-down.

"About who might be framing you," Neville clarified.

"Oh," said Harry, who sat back in his chair without the least bit intention to join in on the investigations. All he wanted, for one night at least, was to just forget about it all.

"No, gimme that here," Neville told Ron, and Ron passed him back a chart he'd just taken to examine. Neville reorganised the charts on the table and frowned at them, muttering incoherently to himself.

"How's your grandmother?" Harry asked him.

Neville looked up, startled.

"Fine," he said, slowly. "Why are you asking?"

"I dunno," Harry shrugged. "I just noticed you didn't spend the holidays with us this year."

"Oh, well yeah," said Neville, quietly, returning back to his charts.

"She treating you alright?" Ron asked.

"Yep," said Neville.

Harry continued to watch him, so concentrated on his charts. He couldn't imagine how difficult it must be to know that your parents were alive but insane and probably wouldn't recognise you if you came to visit them. It must be awful.

"Let me guess who's at the top of your list," he said, his eyes fixed on the charts now. Neville looked up. "Draco Malfoy."

Both Ron and Neville stared up at him, puzzled.

"Oh come on," said Harry. "Neither of you thought that he might be out to get me?"

"Get you?" said Ron. "Why would he want to do that?"

"I mean, we know Malfoy is a bully," said Neville, "But I don't think he's the type that would purposely frame someone to—"

"Well it's the ultimate Slytherin move, isn't it?!" cried Harry.

Seamus, having just climbed in through the portrait hole with Dean, suddenly tripped over Harry's chair and grunted.

"You okay there, Seamus?" Harry asked, wheeling around to look at him.

"Fine," Seamus grumbled, moving to sit in one of the far corners of the common room with Dean.

Harry stared after them.

"What's up with him?" he wondered, but Ron merely shrugged and said, "Why would Malfoy do this to you though?"

Harry looked back at him.

"Sirius," he said, simply.

"Sirius?" said Ron, incredulously.

"So you think that Malfoy is jealous of what you have with Sirius," said Neville, folding his arms across his chest.

"Well, yeah," said Harry, shrugging. "It'd make perfect sense, wouldn't it? He and his Slytherin pals saw the troll incident as an opportunity to get me again, so they set the boggart loose on the same night they knew I was having my detention, so that I'd be bound to walk by right when Hermione was there."

"And how did they know Hermione would end up there?" said Ron.

"Maybe her pal Draco asked her to go meet him and that's what she was on her way to do," Harry suggested.

Neville frowned.

"Look, I know it's crazy, but it makes sense! And also…"

He paused.

Ron and Neville were watching him intently, waiting for him to continue. Harry looked around the busy common room, and then lowered his voice even more so that no one would dare hear him.

"I overheard Malfoy arguing with Hermione a few weeks back," he whispered. "He was telling her to stay away from me."

"What? Why?" said Neville, who looked outraged.

"Because he doesn't want her to end up in another incident that he tries to frame me with, that's why!" Harry hissed. "Don't you see? It makes perfect sense!"

"Blimey, it does!" cried Ron.

"But why didn't you tell us this sooner?" Neville pressed.

Harry shrugged.

"It didn't seem to matter at the time."

"But Harry—"

They fell silent. Hermione had just climbed in through the portrait hole and made to sit next to them. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Seamus huff and turn away to look at the window. Dean whispered something to him. What _was_ his deal?!

"Hello," said Hermione, tiredly, as she sat down.

"Your cast's off!" Neville cried.

"Yep," said Hermione, waving her arm in the air to show them.

"Congrats," said Ron.

Hermione smiled at him. Her eyes landed on Harry and she started. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, having not realised that he was glaring at her.

"Oh just spill it," she said, irritably.

Harry hesitated.

"What is _Draco_ up to these days?"

"What do you mean?" said Hermione.

Harry glanced at the other two, neither of which looked like they were going to contribute. He sighed.

"Look, I don't mean for this to sound the wrong way," he began, pausing for Hermione's reaction (which never came), "But don't you think there is something a bit off about him?"

"Exactly what is off about him?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at Harry.

"Well," he said, struggling on the correct choice of words, "Look, don't you think that maybe it's a bit strange that he hasn't gotten angry or jealous with me about…about Sirius?"

"Why would he?"

"Because Sirius is related to him by _blood_. He obviously probably resents me for this…because Sirius and I are so close."

He waited for Hermione to say something, but for a long time, she didn't. She simply stared at him.

"It's just an observation, of course," Neville suddenly muttered, but Hermione's eyes never left Harry's as she considered this.

"What proof do you have to back up your theory?" she said.

"Theory?" Harry repeated, but Hermione interrupted.

"I suppose you think _he_ had something to do with that boggart, don't you?"

Harry closed his mouth before he could say anything he'd regret.

"I suppose you think _he's_ the one that's out to get you," said Hermione, a little angrier now.

"Well," said Harry, looking sideways at Ron and Neville, "Yeah!"

Hermione sighed in frustration and jumped to her feet.

"Don't be ridiculous!" she hissed, and she meant to turn and walk away when Harry suddenly got to his feet too and grabbed her arm to stop her from leaving.

"Hermione, don't you get it?" he cried. "Everyone's right about your mind being tempered with, but it's not _me_ who's doing it!"

"What are you—?"

"It's him!" said Harry. "It's Malfoy! _He's manipulating you, Hermione!_ "

There was a loud bang. They both turned around to see Seamus picking up a book that he'd dropped onto the floor. Again, Dean whispered angrily to him. Harry turned Hermione back around to face him.

"Don't you see?" he whispered, leading her over to one of the couches and sitting her down. "It makes perfect sense!"

"No, it doesn't!" she hissed, back. "You've got it all wrong!"

"NO, I DON'T!"

"Harry!" she pulled her arm away from his grip and glared at him. "Look, just because you have it bad now and everyone thinks you're a murderer, it does not mean that you can go around blaming other people so that you're in the clear!"

"But I'm not—"

"Leave Draco out of it!" Hermione demanded, and she leapt up to her feet to leave, only to be stopped by Harry again.

"I heard what he said to you in the hallway," Harry hissed at her. "I heard him practically forbid you from talking to me. I heard him!"

"How did you—?"

"I can't tell you how, but the point is I know he did!"

Hermione glared at Harry as though trying to see something in his eyes.

"Look, just…be careful, Hermione," he said, a little more quietly now.

Hermione continued to stare at him, and only then Harry realised that the common room had quieted down significantly and everyone was watching them now, Seamus and Dean included, both of whom were still acting weird over in their little corner by the window.

"Let go of my arm," Hermione whispered.

Harry let go of it and she immediately stormed up to her dormitory, banging the door loudly behind her.

Harry cursed under his breath—for the first time in his life—and stormed out of the common room. Great. Now, everyone would think that he was threatening Hermione again…

…or worse…

* * *

 _Draco_

* * *

"I am sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but I'm afraid I cannot let you into the Restricted Section without an approved teacher's note," said Madame Pince, boldly. "Now, _please_ stop bothering me—I've got lots of work to do."

Frustrated, Draco stormed out of the library. He wasn't going to get anywhere with this if he proceeded to go by the rules. Looking around him quickly, he headed back to the dungeons.

It was the first of March, and Draco knew that time was running out. He'd read somewhere before that the Polyjuice Potion took one month to brew, and he didn't want to even think about where he'd brew it, let alone how he'd nick all the proper ingredients _and_ manage not to get caught.

He found Snape's office quickly and muttered "Alohamora" with his wand pointed at the handle. He looked over his shoulder twice before entering. He had already had the chance to check Snape's cupboard for that little purple bottled labeled "Polyjuice" but he'd realised that it was not enough to grant him at least an hour of investigation time. So, he'd taken it upon himself to research how to brew the potion, which he was more than willing to do himself. Unfortunately, without the proper material, research was pretty pointless.

Draco searched Snape's office desk with tremendous speed until he finally found the thing he was looking for. Sitting in the bottommost drawer, the little notepad of teacher's notes was almost smiling back at him, as was Snape's signature that was clearly plastered on the front. Draco pulled out his quill and quickly wrote,

 _I, Severus Snape, do hereby consent Draco Malfoy to use the Restricted Section at the library to research for an assignment I have assigned him._

He pulled the top sheet out and placed the notepad back in its place, checking several times to make sure he'd put everything back where he'd found it. He glanced at the little muggle clock on the desk, frowned slightly when he noticed that it was in fact a _muggle_ clock—where would Snape have gotten one?!—and then frowned. He still had about fifteen minutes until Snape would return. This was his one and only opportunity.

Taking a deep breath, he turned back to the storage room and unlocked it.

"Lumos," he whispered, lighting up the tip of his wand in the dark storage room. The cupboards were positively filled with different bottles of different shapes, sizes and colours, all gleaming at him as he pointed his wand and examined them. Surely he would be able to find all the proper ingredients in here, once he acquired the recipe.

Locking the room again, he tried the next door. And then the next. Finally, he found the correct door and looked around. It was a small space, but in all his time at Hogwarts, he had never once seen Snape enter it. It looked like a simple broom cupboard that he'd forgotten even exited—a perfect place for brewing.

The lunch bell sounded and panic filled Draco as he quickly locked up all the rooms and darted out the door.

"Well, I'm back!" he said gleefully to Madame Pince as he thrust the fake note from Snape into her hand the next day. "Now will you _please_ let me into the Restricted Section?"

She narrowed her eyes at the note, then looked up at Draco and nodded.

"Very well then, follow me, Mr. Malfoy."

It didn't take long for Draco to find the large, heavy and dusty book that was _Most Potente Potions_. Checking over his shoulder several times, he flipped through the book frantically until he found the page titled _The Polyjuice Potions_. And then, without hesitation, he ripped it from the book and stuffed it hastily into his bag.

"Thanks a lot," he said to Madame Pince on his way out.

She frowned at him.

He returned to the common room to find that Crabbe and Goyle had fallen ill from eating too much and Blaise and Avery were just starting a game of Exploding Snap.

"Come play with us," said Blaise.

"Uh, n-not now," said Draco, and he quickly darted up the stairs to the dormitory.

He sat on the window ledge and pulled the crumpled page out of his bag. He folded it out in front of him and narrowed his eyes at it.

 _INGREDIENTS_

 _Part 1:_

 _Fluxweed_

 _Knotgrass_

 _Lacewing Flies_

 _Leeches_

 _Part 2:_

 _Horn of Bicorn_

 _Lacewing Flies_

 _Boomslang Skin_

 _Hair of person you're turning into_

Draco's eyes went round. Hair? _Hair?_ Well where on earth was he supposed to get the hair of a Gryffindor student? He sat back on the ledge, frustrated, and glared out of the window into the dark sky. This just _had_ to be so difficult, didn't it? He glanced back at the paper.

 _BREWING INSTRUCTIONS:_

 _PART 1, STEP ONE_

 _1\. Add 3 measures of fluxweed to the cauldron (must have been picked on a full moon)_

 _2\. Add 2 bundles of knotgrass to the cauldron_

 _3\. Stir 3 times, clockwise_

 _4\. Wave your wand, then let potion brew for 80 minutes (for a Pewter Cauldron. A Brass Cauldron will only require 68, and a copper one only 60)_

The instructions went on and on, getting more complicated as Draco read. When he was finished, he thought he'd earned himself a fever because his head was spinning. There was no way he was going to be able to pull this off. Not alone, at least.

"Blaise," said Draco, grimly, once everyone else had gone to bed.

"What's up, mate?" said Blaise, noticing the serious look on Draco's face.

Draco checked to make sure that they were alone before he knelt down beside Blaise on the carpet and lowered his voice significantly.

"I have a very strange favour to ask of you," he began. "But I need your help so you kind of have to promise me that you'll agree to it."

Blaise looked at Draco fearfully and nervously, though Draco couldn't blame him. The poor boy had no idea what he was going to be helping Draco with soon, and Draco wasn't sure whether they would even live to tell the tale.

"ARE YOU MAD?!" he cried once Draco explained everything to him the following day in Snape's little storage cupboard. "YOU ARE MAD, AREN'T YOU?!"

" _Keep your voice down!_ " Draco hissed. "Look, I'm desperate here. I need to get into that common room—I need to find out what Potter and Weaslebee are up to. But I can't do it alone. I need your help."

"But—"

"Snape has all of the ingredients, I've already checked," Draco pointed out. "I've already nicked some too. And we're safe to brew it in here—no one will ever know."

"But why are you asking _me_?" Blaise whined. "Why not pull Avery into your little plan?"

"Because he'll think I don't believe him."

"Believe him for what?"

"Look," said Draco, angrily. "Are you going to help me or not?"

Blaise hesitated and a long moment's silence ensued.

"Fine then," he muttered. "But you owe me for this. You owe me big. BIG, I tell you"

"Fine," Draco repeated.

And so for the rest of the month of March, this was what they did. In the mornings, they ate with the others as if nothing was happening. In the afternoons, they attended their classes as innocently as they possibly could. But in the evenings, they retreated to Snape's hidden cupboard and brewed the nasty-looking, foul-smelling potion in secret. And Blaise made a point to complain the entire time.

Hermione questioned Draco about why he wasn't meeting her in the library that much anymore, but he lied and said he was busy with his mates in the common room every night and that he was all caught up in his subjects and didn't really need to study. Whether she believed him or she didn't, he did not know. All he knew was that she accepted this and put up no argument, to his great relief.

She did however anger him one day when he saw her walking with Potter and Weaslebee from the Great Hall, laughing about something. Here he was, risking so much and breaking too many rules for her safety, while she was freely trotting around with the bloody enemy!

Furious, Draco waited until after the lunch bell to confront her. He found her walking by herself in some corridor when he cornered her instantly.

"What is it?" she asked, startled, but Draco shushed her and waited for all the passing students to leave. Once they were alone in the corridor, he rounded on her.

"Do you have any idea—do you even know—" he breathed, but she didn't seem to understand him because he wasn't making any sense.

He couldn't tell her what he was up to. He just couldn't. So he had to explain without giving her all the pieces of the puzzle, which made her even angrier.

"JUST SPILL IT ALREADY!" she cried.

"Look, you can't just walk around with them, okay?" he said. "You can't!"

"I can do whatever I want!" she said, angrily. "You can't boss me around, Draco!"

"I too can!" he hissed.

Hermione's eyes went round.

"He's dangerous!"

"And I've told you many times, he's not!"

"And _I've_ told _you_!" he retaliated. "Do _not_ hang out with him. Do you understand me?"

"I will hang out with whomever I want to hang out, thanks!" Hermione hissed, her face red with anger.

"HERMIONE!" Draco shouted, and he frightened her a great deal by doing so because he felt her body tense up and she even backed away from him until she was up against the wall. "I mean it— _stay away from Harry Potter_."

Without waiting for her response, he turned around and stormed down the corridor, leaving her by herself, gaping after him as he marched.

"Have you figured out how you're going to get the hairs?" he demanded of Blaise, shutting the door to the cupboard behind him.

"Y-yeah," said Blaise, startled. "Hey, you okay?"

He added 2 measures of crushed lacewing flies into the cauldron and it hissed slightly in response.

"Fine," Draco grumbled. "So? How are you going to get them?"

"I'll trip Finnigan and Thomas one day," Blaise said, simply.

"Okay," said Draco, shrugging. "You do that."

"Yeah and did I mention that you owe me for this?" Blaise said, jokingly, but Draco was in no mood to retaliate. "Are you sure that they're our best choices?"

"Positive," said Draco. "Potter will be discussing his plans with those closest to him—that's Weaslebee and Longbottom. Finnigan and Thomas share their dormitory, from what I've gathered, and I don't think they're that close so they're our perfect choices."

Blaise nodded as he stirred the cauldron.

The wait was too long that it was almost killing Draco. He tried to concentrate on schoolwork and Quidditch but all he could think about was that potion brewing in Snape's hidden cupboard.

Finally, on the last day of brewing, Draco sent Blaise out to retrieve the hairs and took over the cooking process himself. He was just finishing stirring when Blaise burst into the cupboard, panting, with two different hairs in his hand.

"What happened?" Draco demanded at once.

"Got 'em," said Blaise, still panting.

"Why were you running?" Draco asked, motioning for Blaise to quickly shut the door.

"Because I had to hex them to sleep, didn't I?" said Blaise, in a tone that suggested it should have been obvious. Draco nodded and continued to stir the cauldron which was bubbling sluggishly like thick, dark mud.

Blaise pulled down his bag and wheezed slightly as he tried to catch his breath.

"Where are they?" Draco asked.

"Broomstick cupboard on the fifth floor," said Blaise, his eyes on the cauldron. "Is it ready then?"

"Think so," said Draco, glancing once more at the instruction sheet. "We just need to add the hairs—otherwise, everything is ready. Did you get the uniforms?"

"Yeah," Blaise kicked his bag forwards and Draco pulled it towards him and began to pull out the Gryffindor robes.

"Which are whose?" he wondered.

"Don't know," said Blaise. "I was a bit preoccupied with running away so that no one would notice me, wasn't I?"

Ignoring him, Draco took the hairs from him and examined them.

"And which are whose?" he repeated.

Blaise just shrugged. Rolling his eyes, Draco separated the contents of the stinking potion into two separate glasses and dropped the hairs. The potions hissed loudly like boiling kettles and frothed madly. A second later, one turned a sick sort of green while the other a murky brown.

"W-we have to drink _that_?" said Blaise, who was eyeing the glass that Draco now handed him with loathing.

"Yep," Draco said, determinedly. "Just pinch your nose—it'll ease the process."

Blaise scowled at him.

"You so owe me," he muttered for the hundredth time.

Hesitating slightly, Draco took one deep breath and then drank the potion down in two large gulps, as Blaise did the same next to him. It tasted like a horrible combination of overcooked cabbage and goblin piss.

Immediately, Draco felt his insides starting to writhe as though he'd just swallowed live snakes—doubled up, he wondered whether he was going to vomit—then a burning sensation spread rapidly from his stomach to the very ends of his fingers and toes. Beside him, Blaise was down on all fours, gasping and wincing at the uncomfortable sensation that was now pouring through him. A horrible, melting feeling swept over Draco as the skin all over his body bubbled like hot wax—he fell against one of the walls for support and gasped wildly. Before his very eyes, his hands began to change, the nails reshaping, the knuckles bulging—his shoulders shrank painfully and a prickling on his forehead told him that hair was creeping down towards his eyebrows—his robes loosened just a smidge as his chest shrunk.

As suddenly as it had started, everything stopped. Blaise was lying face down on the stone-cold floor beside Draco. With difficulty clearly, he stood up and turned to look at Draco, gasping. Draco gasped too as he found Dean Thomas looking back at him with round eyes. Dean reached up to hold his head as though it were about to fall off. Draco's own head was swimming as he tried to move from the wall. So this was what it felt like, being Seamus Finnigan. His hand trembling, he began to pull of his robes and Blaise did the same. They pulled on the spare ones and laced up their shoes quickly.

"We have one hour exactly," Draco told Blaise, and he started as he realised he'd spoken with Seamus' Irish accent.

"Blimey," Blaise said, sounding exactly like Dean.

Draco laughed.

He reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes and then jumped backwards as he saw his reflecting in the glass cupboard and noticed that, for the first time in his life, he now had dark hair and eyebrows. It was the strangest sensation he had ever felt.

* * *

"Where is that ruddy common room?" Blaise hissed in Draco's ear.

" _Will you keep your voice down?!_ " Draco hissed back. "It's right this way."

It felt so weird to be prowling the Hogwarts halls while looking like Seamus. This definitely was not something Draco was interested in doing more than once. It was best to just get it over with and never look back.

"How much time has passed?" Blaise asked.

"Just under ten minutes," Draco said as he glanced at his watch. "Come on, hurry up."

They increased their pace until they reached the famous portrait of the Fat Lady, who gave them an estranged look. Draco gulped nervously. _The password!_

"Um," he said, looking sideways at Blaise who shrugged.

"No password, no entry!" said the Fat Lady, before turning her back on them.

"Excuse me!" said a bossy voice behind them.

They turned round to find the oldest Weasley standing right behind them.

"Are you two coming in or not? I have lots of work do to and little time to do it in," said the boy, his prefect's badge gleaming on his chest.

"Y-yeah," said Draco, stepping aside to allow him entry.

"Wattlebird," said the boy, lazily.

"Precisely!" said the Fat Lady, who swung forwards, revealing the portrait hole.

Blaise said "YES!" under his breath as he followed Draco inside. They looked around the round, largely crowded room until their eyes landed upon those they had come in there to spy on.

"I mean, we know Malfoy is a bully," Neville Longbottom was saying, as he leaned back against a couch, "But I don't think he's the type that would purposely frame someone to—"

"Well it's the ultimate Slytherin move, isn't it?!" cried Potter.

At this, Draco lost his balance and tripped over Potter's chair, grunting loudly.

"You okay there, Seamus?" Potter asked, wheeling around to look at him.

"Fine," Draco grumbled, feeling Blaise pushing him forwards. They moved to sit in one of the far corners of the common room, though close enough so that they could hear the remainder of Potter's conversation.

"Grab a book!" Draco whispered and Blaise picked up a random book on a table and propped it open against his knees.

Draco's snapped as he heard Potter say, "Sirius".

"So you think that Malfoy is jealous of what you have with Sirius," said Longbottom.

"Well, yeah," said Potter.

Draco scowled. That slimy git, always thinking that everything was about him!

"He and his Slytherin pals saw the troll incident as an opportunity to get me again, so they set the boggart loose on the same night they knew I was having my detention!"

Draco looked sideways at Blaise to make sure he was listening to this too, and then he rolled his eyes.

"Your book is upside-down, you idiot!" he hissed.

"Oh right, sorry," Blaise muttered, turning it right-side up.

"Look, I overheard Malfoy arguing with Hermione a few weeks back," Potter was saying now. "He was telling her to stay away from me."

Draco frowned. How on earth had Potter heard this? Was he sneaking around in corners, eavesdropping on conversations while he planned his next attack?

"Don't you see?!" he hissed now. "It makes perfect sense!"

The portrait hole slid open then and Hermione climbed in, moving to join the boys on the couches at once. Draco jumped back at the sight of her. Her cast was finally off, which was definitely a relief. But it still bothered him how she moved to sit beside them right away—as though automatically!

"What is _Draco_ up to these days?" Potter asked her.

"What do you mean?" she said.

Draco strained his ears to listen over the other noisy students in the large common room.

"Don't you think there is something a bit off about him?" Potter continued.

"Exactly what is off about him?" Draco heard Hermione say.

Blaise kicked his foot then and Draco muttered, "Wait!" as he continued to listen.

"Sirius is related to him by blood," Potter was saying. "He obviously probably resents me for this…because Sirius and I are so close."

Draco scowled even more. Could Potter be any more self-centered and self-absorbed? Did he honestly just live in his little bubble, oblivious to everything that was going on around him? Draco was just about to get up and yell at Potter—and give himself away in the process—when Hermione beat him to it, quite unexpectedly.

"I suppose you think _he_ had something to do with that boggart, do you?" she said, angrily. "I suppose you think _he's_ the one that's out to get you!"

"Hermione, don't you get it?" Potter cried. "Everyone's right about your mind being tempered with, but it's not _me_ who's doing it!"

"What are you—?"

"It's him! It's Malfoy! _He's manipulating you, Hermione!_ "

Blaise's book dropped to the floor beside Draco. Draco looked round at him angrily and shoved the book back up.

"We should go!" Blaise hissed.

"Shut up!" Draco hissed back, looking round at Potter again.

"You've got it all wrong!" Hermione was saying now.

"NO, I DON'T!"

"Harry!"

He grabbed her arm and she tried to pull it away from him as she struggled to get up. Draco grew furious and it took all his willpower to remain rooted to the spot and not interfere.

"Leave Draco out of it!" Hermione snapped.

They struggled for a few more minutes and everyone else in the common room was looking at them now. Then, Hermione broke free, whispered something that Potter that unfortunately Draco had missed, and then ran off into her dormitory, slamming the door behind her. The common room was silent as a water tank.

Potter, looking around, stormed out without a word to anyone. Draco met Blaise's eyes which were probably mirroring his own because they were so round with confusion.

A kind of strange happiness filled inside Draco. He had been outraged to see how quick Hermione was to join Potter and his mates on the couches. But he was also equally as pleased and pleasantly surprised that she had defended him so nobly and protected him from accusation. But now, Draco's heart filled with dread. Hermione had been right—Potter was not planning anything. In fact, _he_ was under the impression that _Draco_ was planning something instead.

Blaise nudged him again and Draco nodded slowly and followed him out of the common room and back to the dungeons, his heart sinking quite low as he walked.

* * *

 **I will be updating one chapter for my other fanfic next and once that's done, I'll get back to this one. We're almost wrapped up with Year 2! Only two more chapters to go...**


	18. Year 2: The Shrieking Shack

**A/N : So I know I said I'd go back to my other fanfic before continuing this one, but I had a sudden urge to wrap up year 2 and then stop just before year 3, so here you are. **

**You** **will notice that for the first time, I am publishing a chapter where you have first Harry's perspective, then Draco's and then a combination of both sides. This is because some events happen where the both of them are present and I don't want to be redundant.**

 **Hope you like and please review!**

 **Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks**

* * *

CHAPTER 18: YEAR 2—THE SHRIEKING SHACK

* * *

 _Harry_

* * *

The next time Harry talked to Hermione, she seemed to have her armour back on. She was back to being Malfoy's little pet, which annoyed him to bits. But he never said anything again to her. If she was so willing to trust this pal of hers, it wasn't Harry's business to do anything about it. He would just have the pleasure of saying "I told you so" the next time something happened and Hermione finally realised that it was her best friend's fault.

As April slowly moved into May, bringing with it some showers and extremely warm weather, Seamus and Dean finally relaxed around Harry and were able to talk to him and hang out with him like old times. Harry wanted more than anything to hold a grudge over them, but he didn't really think he could blame them for being a bit scared. They were only just trying to protect themselves, after all. No one annoyed him more nowadays than Draco Malfoy, who strutted about the castle with Hermione at his wake.

It was sickening, seeing how she followed him around like a shadow. He really had her wrapped around his little act. Harry just could not believe how someone as smart as her could be so fooled by that slimy snake.

"It's none of your business," Neville reminded Harry when he expressed these concerns again at the end of April. "Just let it go—Hermione's a big girl."

"Fine," Harry muttered, carelessly flipping the page of his Transfiguration book.

May's full moon was definitely a terrible one for Remus. Harry was in the middle of a Transfiguration lesson when he found out just how terrible it had been. McGonagall slipped a note into his assignment as she handed it back, and he quickly unfolded it and gasped loudly, making students all around him stare at him:

 _Remus is in the hospital wing for the next week._

Harry jumped from his seat, grabbed his stuff and ran out, knowing that McGonagall had expected this and understood.

Remus didn't look too bad when Harry got there, but he still had never looked worse. His left cheek was completely scratched, he was wincing terribly as Madame Pomfrey dabbed something on his side hip (which sported a nasty bruise) and the fingers on his right hand were bandaged.

"Moony," Harry whispered, but Remus smiled at him.

"It's not too bad, Harry, I promise— _ow!_ "

"Sorry!" Madame Pomfrey said, boldly. "If you stop moving, it won't hurt!"

Harry let out a small laugh and then came to sit next to Remus, who was examining his bandaged fingers.

"Look Harry, see? It's not too bad. I just won't be able to write for the next little while, until they heal, that is. But other than that— _ow!_ "

"Oh for heaven's sake!" cried Madame Pomfrey. "I'll be right back!"

She angrily threw a tissue onto the bedside table and stormed back into her office.

"She'll be looking for a potion to put me to sleep," Remus muttered. "I'm sure of it."

"I think you could use the sleep," Harry observed.

"How did you know I was in here?" Remus said suddenly. "I only got back a while ago."

"McGonagall told me," Harry said, quickly.

" _Professor_ McGonagall, Harry," said Remus, wincing again. "I know we're family and all but let's still keep the formalities, out of respect for your teachers."

"Fine," said Harry, who didn't really care at the moment. His eyes landed on the scratched cheek and Remus turned his head so that Harry wouldn't keep looking at it.

"Have you written to your parents then? To Sirius?"

"No," said Harry. "Like I've said, I just found out and I ran out of class and came here right away."

"Well you shouldn't have done that."

"What do you mean?"

"Run out of class," said Remus. "You shouldn't have done that. There is no need for you to miss important lessons because of me…especially this close to final exams."

"But Moony—"

"I can take care of myself, Harry. I've been doing so all my life. I don't want you to worry about me."

"But—"

"I'm afraid I _insist_ you go back to class."

"Remus—"

"NOW!"

Harry stared at him, his mouth open. Remus had never acted like this before, especially not to Harry.

"Fine," he mumbled, rising from the bed. "I'll see you later then."

Remus said nothing, so Harry turned away and walked out of the hospital wing, all the while confused.

He was just about to turn the corner when he spotted Albus Dumbledore headed straight for him.

"Professor!"

"Hello Harry," said Dumbledore, politely. "I see you've gotten Professor McGonagall's message—how is he?"

"He's okay," said Harry, though he didn't believe it one bit. "Lots of injuries but he'll be fine."

"Oh good, good," said Dumbledore, smiling gently.

"Professor," said Harry. "He…he's not himself. I'm worried about him."

"You ought not to be," said Dumbledore, reassuringly. "It's just the mood swings—after effects of the cycle, you know."

Harry slowly shook his head.

"Think of it as a type of after-shock for an earthquake," said Dumbledore. "Now, you should get back to class. I have to have a little word with Remus. Go on."

When Harry met up with Ron and Neville in the Great Hall for lunch, Ron began interrogating him, as was expected.

"Remus is just sick," Harry mumbled, pouring himself some water.

"Right," said Ron, suspiciously. "Look, he's sick practically every month. If he's got some kind of terminal illness—"

"He doesn't," said Neville, quickly.

"Well then what is it?" Ron said.

"I don't know…" Harry said.

"Oh come _on!_ —you don't seriously expect me to believe that, do you?"

Harry stared at him, not knowing what to say.

"Of _course_ you know what's wrong with him—and you too, Neville—so why don't you guys want to tell me? Don't you trust me?"

"No, it's not that," Harry began, but Ron didn't seem to hear him.

He went on a complete rant about how he'd kept every other secret Harry had told him about Dumbledore and Voldemort and Malfoy and Sirius and how it wasn't fair that Harry didn't trust him with this. Harry looked round to Neville for support, and he seemed to be communicating something to him with his eyes.

 _No matter how hard he probes you, do not tell him. It's not our secret to tell_.

Harry nodded his understanding.

After that, things calmed down for a bit. It seemed that articles about Harry had stopped coming in the Daily Prophet. The threatening letters stopped arriving as well. Harry still heard whispers every now and then, but it was nothing that he couldn't handle.

He kept his promise to Remus and didn't write to his parents about his last cycle. He also didn't bother writing Sirius, since he still hadn't replied his last letter which meant that he was still gone—wherever he was. And so, Harry focused his energies on revising for final exams in order to keep his mother happy and practicing for Quidditch in order to keep his father and Oliver Wood happy.

On the first of June though, Harry awoke with a terrible feeling in his gut. It was about 5 in the morning when he awoke to what felt like an extremely cold dormitory. He turned over in his bed and vomited on the floor, waking the others in the process. They rubbed their eyes and then sat up in alarm, watching him. Neville rushed to his aid.

"Do you need to see Madame Pomfrey?" he asked, helping Harry back up.

Harry shook his head.

"I want to see Sirius," he said, his face covered in sweat.

Dean and Seamus fell back to sleep, but Ron got out of bed and joined Harry in his.

"Sirius?" said Neville. "But Harry, he's—"

"Gone, I know," Harry snapped. "It's okay guys, I'm fine. It was just a bad feeling but it's gone now. Go back to sleep."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Ron nodded and returned to his bed, but Neville claimed that he couldn't fall asleep now and made Harry come down to the common room with him and read. Harry was honestly grateful for the distraction, and even more grateful that Neville didn't hammer him with questions for a change. Instead, he respected his privacy and only cast glances at him twice.

By breakfast time, Harry was sure that something terrible was going to happen that day. He found that he kept looking around and checking that everyone he cared about was where they were supposed to be. Around lunchtime, he spotted Hermione moving out of the Great Hall with the enemy and he scowled after them.

"Oy," said Ron, tapping him on the shoulder.

Harry spun around quickly, his hand in his pocket clutching his wand.

"What's wrong with you, Harry?" exclaimed Ron. "You're so jumpy today!"

"S-sorry," said Harry, removing his hand from his pocket. "W-what's up?"

"Wood cancelled practice today," Ron informed him. "He has to study for those O. ."

"Right," said Harry, nodding. "Today's June first, right?"

"Yes," said Neville, giving him a pointed look.

Harry nodded again, his thoughts on Remus. Remus was probably the reason why Harry felt so edgy and so jumpy today. He knew he wouldn't feel better until he saw him.

Unfortunately, when the boys got back to their common room, they found that McGonagall had posted a notice saying all Transfiguration lessons were cancelled for the day. This did not ease things up for Harry.

"I'm sure he's fine," Neville whispered as they made their way to Defense against the Dark Arts.

Harry only nodded.

When they got there, he froze. Hermione was not in the classroom, and neither was her pal Draco. Harry looked around again to be sure, but the two never showed up even after the lesson was finished.

"You don't think…" said Ron, nervously, but Harry only shook his head. He didn't know what to think at this point.

By dinnertime, Hermione had still not shown up, but Draco Malfoy had. He was sitting at the Slytherin table, looking pretty grim himself. Harry frowned at him. How could he just sit there, after having done whatever it is that he'd done to make Hermione cry again?

"Where is Ginny?" said Neville, who was looking up and down the Gryffindor table nervously.

"Dunno," said Ron, shrugging. He bit into a turkey leg and brushed the ginger hair out of his face.

Harry looked round. Sure enough, Ginny was also missing from their table.

"Hey Parvati," said Neville.

The black-haired girl turned around to face him.

"Where is Hermione? Or Ginny? Have you seen either of them?"

"Haven't you heard?" said Parvati.

"Heard what?" said Harry, suddenly.

"Hermione and Ginny are missing!" hissed Parvati.

Harry's heart skipped a beat and Ron looked up from his turkey leg in alarm.

"M-missing?" he said, his mouth full of turkey and mashed potatoes.

"Yeah, it's awful," Parvati whispered. "No one knows where they are. I overheard some of the professors talking about a mandatory meeting in the staff room."

"When?" croaked Harry.

"Tonight," said Parvati. "After dinner."

Harry looked round at Ron who looked ghostly white, then at Neville whose eyebrows were furrowed anxiously.

"Everyone's saying it's you, Harry," Parvati added, suddenly. "But I think they're just being stupid. You'd never hurt them...not your best friend's sister."

Harry's face went white too and he looked back over his shoulder at the Slytherin table, feeling very panicked.

"Look, just let the teachers handle it, okay?" Neville was saying as the boys slowly made their way back to the common room at the end of dinner.

Neither Harry nor Ron answered. Harry could feel eyes on him as he passed students in the halls. He looked around and saw many of them either hurrying away from him or whispering nervously to each other. Up until now, it had just been rumours and talks. But tonight...they were looking at him as though afraid of him...as though he was the enemy. And Harry knew exactly what happened to people if they were treated like criminals long enough...they tended to become them...

When they got back into the common room, Neville set his books down and said he'd be right back. As soon as he was gone, Ron nudged Harry and they both raced up to the dormitory to get Harry's cloak. By the time Neville returned from the bathroom, neither boys were in the Gryffindor common room anymore.

"Come on, hurry up!" Ron hissed as the two boys ran along the corridor under the invisibility cloak.

"Which way's the staff room again?" Harry panted.

"I think we take a right here," said Ron. "Blimey Harry, the whole school thinks _you've_ attacked them!"

They turned the corner and continued running.

"I _didn't!_ " Harry hissed, desperately.

"Harry," gasped Ron. "What…what do you think's happened…?"

"I don't know," Harry cut across him. "I…I don't want to think about it."

"It's that slimy git Malfoy," Ron hissed. "I'm sure of it."

"I don't know anymore," said Harry, truthfully. "But—hey, that's my foot!"

"OW!"

Both boys fell to the floor, the cloak slipping off of them. Ron's arm (or maybe it was his leg?) was resting painfully on Harry's shoulder. Harry shoved him aside and the two of them scrambled to his feet.

Malfoy was standing before them, his wand pointed directly at Harry.

* * *

"What are _you_ doing here?!" Harry cried, his own wand drawn now.

"You first," said Malfoy.

Harry glared at him. Beside him, Ron bent down and picked up the cloak.

"What is that?" Malfoy asked, his eyes still on Harry.

"My invisibility cloak," said Harry. "And you didn't answer my question."

"I'm looking for _Hermione_ ," Malfoy spat out. "You haven't seen her by any chance, have you?"

"You know I haven't," Harry said, through gritted teeth. "What have you done to her?"

"Me? I haven't done anything!" cried Malfoy.

"Where is my sister?" Ron demanded, but Harry held him back.

"Didn't you hear me, Weaslebee?" said Malfoy, angrily. "I said I don't know! That's why I'm out here, looking."

" _You're_ looking for my sister?" said Ron, incredulously.

"I'm looking for _Hermione_ ," said Malfoy, in a tone that told Ron he shouldn't flatter himself or his family.

Harry looked around the empty corridor, so sure that he'd just heard footsteps coming from somewhere. He looked back at Malfoy. Well, if he was really out here looking for Hermione, then he can't have done whatever it was that had made her and Ginny go missing.

"Look, you …you can't be here…just…just go, okay?" he said, his wand finally lowering.

"Excuse me?" said Malfoy, his eyebrows raised and his wand still pointed at Harry.

"Just go back to your dungeon!" cried Ron.

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what you've done to her!" Malfoy shouted.

"DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF?!" cried Ron. "WE HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING! IN CASE YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED, MY SISTER IS MISSING TOO! YOU THINK I'D DO SOMETHING TO MY OWN SISTER?!"

"I have no idea what goes on in that brain of yours," Malfoy muttered.

Ron took a threatening step towards him but Harry held out his arm again, blocking him.

"Where is—"

"Shhh!"

Malfoy stared at Harry, who was now listening intently.

"WHAT?!" he whispered hoarsely, but Harry simply brought his finger to his lips and indicated the neighbouring corridor. The three boys listened.

"…has Dumbledore called everyone to this meeting?" came Professor Slughorn's voice.

"Yes, Horace, everyone," said McGonagall, sternly. "We need to hurry. Dumbledore said it's only a matter of time before things get worse with Remus."

Their voices descended from the hall, but Harry was pulling on the invisibility cloak again, half his body invisible before Malfoy's eyes now. Malfoy stared at him, his wand finally lowering.

"Look Malfoy, just go back to your common room, okay? We've got to go," said Harry.

"No way, I'm coming with you!" Malfoy said at once.

Harry stared at him. _What on earth_ was he going on about? Was he actually being serious?

"Harry, why were they talking about Lupin?" Ron asked in a small voice, but Harry ignored him. His insides were swarming with the fear of what might have happened and he didn't want to have to explain it all right now. He wished Neville was him when he'd have to.

"I'm coming," Malfoy repeated, firmly.

Harry knew it was no longer a question but rather a demand. He sighed and then motioned for Ron to join him under the cloak.

"Fine," he said, holding it out for Malfoy. "But you're going to do this _our_ way, or not at all."

For a second, just a second, Harry actually thought Malfoy would snort and walk away from him. But he was beyond surprised when Malfoy suddenly pocketed his wand and got under the cloak with them.

If someone had woken Harry up that morning and told him that he would be sharing his invisibility cloak with Ron and Malfoy that night, he would have laughed at them. Not wanting to seem too shocked, he led the way after Slughorn and McGonagall, to where the staff room meeting was to take place.

* * *

 _Draco_

* * *

Neither Draco nor Blaise ever told the others about what they'd found out or what they'd done to find out what they'd found out. In fact, they had a mutual agreement not to ever mention the Polyjuice Potion to anyone. Though, Blaise had still not forgotten that Draco owed him for helping him, which Draco didn't seem to mind. The most important thing was that now he knew. He knew that Hermione was not in danger in her own common room, because it wasn't Harry Potter after all. Avery had been wrong.

Draco found it a lot easier to be around Hermione as April slowly progressed to May. He found it a lot easier to concentrate in his classes and to do well in Quidditch. And it was working too. Slytherin won the next couple of matches, coming in to tie for first place against Gryffindor. They actually had a shot at winning that cup this year.

As the school year was slowly drawing to an end and Draco was starting his revision for final exams around late May, the rumours and the talks about Harry Potter died down as well. In fact, the only strange thing that seemed to be occurring nowadays was Snape's insistence on having a word with Draco. However, every time they got close to actually talking in private, something came up. A couple of times, Snape tried to keep Draco at the end of class but there was always something…a student needing clarification for something, someone getting sick, or Draco being summoned by another teacher for some other concern. So eventually, Snape stopped trying. But Draco was still intent on having that talk, because whatever it had been seemed very important…perhaps even Lupin related.

Ever since Draco had questioned Snape about Lupin, he couldn't get his mind off of him and found that he was subconsciously watching him all the time…in class, in the Great Hall at meals...

He tried to talk to Hermione about it a couple of times but she merely shrugged and changed the subject quickly.

"Do you know something?" Draco finally asked her.

It was June 1st, lunchtime, and the two were in the library looking for books they needed for an Astronomy paper.

"No," said Hermione. "I don't know anything. Here, try this one."

She pulled out _Scoping out the Telescope_ and handed it to Draco. He flipped through the pages carelessly, his eyes still on Hermione.

"Well?" he said, his eyebrows raised now.

Hermione bit her lip.

"Well what?"

"Are you going to tell me what you know?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Draco shut the book in his hands and leaned against the shelf to look at her. Hermione purposely avoided his eyes.

"You do know something though, don't you?" he said, his eyes narrowed at her. "Even not Lupin related…"

Hermione bit her lip again and then looked around to make sure they were alone.

"Tell me," Draco whispered.

Hermione turned back to look at him.

"Harry said that Dumbledore told him that the Dark Lord could come back one day."

Draco's eyes widened just a fraction at these words and, noticing this, he quickly turned away from Hermione and grabbed a random book on the shelf, while putting _Scoping out the Telescope_ back.

"Did he?" he said, his back turned on her.

"Yeah, he did," said Hermione. "I didn't want to tell you before because you'd have said that it was just Harry trying to put things in my mind…but I knew that I still wanted to tell you anyway because…well, you're my best friend."

"Right," said Draco. "Um, did he say anything else about Dumbledore?"

"No, not much," said Hermione. "Listen Draco, you won't…you won't tell anyone that I've told you this, will you? I promised I'd keep my mouth shut."

"Um yeah," he answered, picking up another book and pretending to examine it.

"Okay," said Hermione, slowly. "Well, I've got to find Ginny Weasley before class. I'll see you later then?"

"Yeah, see you." He turned around just as Hermione was leaving and said, "Hermione!" She spun around to look at him. " _Be careful_."

Hermione rolled her eyes and disappeared from the library. As soon as she was gone, Draco let himself sink to the ground. He wasn't sure whether an hour had passed or more than that. All he knew was that eventually, the library darkened a bit and students had stopped walking by. At one point, he'd loosened the tie around his neck. The words on the books he'd taken from the shelves were now a blur. But none of this mattered because his mind was still circulating the same thing: If Voldemort could return, what on earth would happen to Draco's family?

"Mr. Malfoy!" cried Madame Pince as she came around the book shelves. Draco jumped to his feet at the sight of her. "What are you doing here? Dinner is about to begin, you should be in the Great Hall with everyone else!"

"S-sorry," he mumbled as he quickly gathered the books, stuck them back on the shelf and hurried out of the library, ignoring Madame Pince's cries about how he'd messed up the order.

He did not stop by the dungeons before dinner but headed straight to the Great Hall, hoping that Avery would be in the mood for some game after dinner so that Draco could distract himself from this brewing mess.

"Oh there you are!" said Avery once Draco grabbed the seat next to him. "We've been wondering when you'd show up."

"Where've you been all day?" Blaise wondered.

Draco just shrugged and gulped down the juice in front of him. "What'd I miss?"

"Not much," said Goyle, who was halfway through a large mince pie. Draco stared at him with disgust and then turned to Avery.

"You in the mood for Gobbstones after dinner?"

"Not tonight," said Avery.

"Okay," said Draco, slowly. "How about wizard's chess then?"

"Maybe another time."

"Aves, what's wrong with you?"

Avery looked up at Draco seriously, and before he even said anything, Blaise cleared his throat.

"Where's your pal Granger?"

Draco glanced at Blaise who looked extremely anxious.

"What are you talking about?" he demanded.

"Look mate, you've been gone all day—you haven't heard what they're saying, have you?" said Blaise, nervously.

"What?" Draco repeated, looking over Blaise's shoulder at the Gryffindor table.

He scanned it thoroughly for a few minutes and sure enough, Hermione was nowhere to be found.

"I…don't know…" he said, scanning it one more time. "What…what are they saying?"

Crabbe and Goyle exchanged a look and Blaise looked down at his plate. Draco looked round at Avery for confirmation, but he too, remained silent, none of them wanting to tell Draco what he feared most of all hearing.

* * *

"I can't let you in without the password, my dear boy," said the Fat Lady, fervently.

"I DON'T CARE!" Draco bellowed at her, his wand raised shakily at the stupid portrait. "LET ME—"

The portrait suddenly swung forwards and a boy climbed out. Draco started for a minute and then—

" _Longbottom_!"

"H-hello Draco," he said, looking startled at the sight of Draco's raised wand. "Umm, what are you doing—?"

"Where is Hermione? Is she inside? Can you tell her to come out? I have to talk to her. It's urgent."

"Draco, she's not here," said Longbottom, quietly. "Haven't you heard the rumours?"

"What rumours?" Draco demanded, finally pocketing his wand.

"Hermione has been declared missing this afternoon…with Ginny Weasley," said Longbottom, in a very small voice.

"Missing?" Draco repeated, his throat constricted now.

"Missing," Longbottom whispered. "Don't ask me—I don't know where they are. I don't know what happened to them and I'm sure I'm just as worried as you are."

"M-m-missing?"

"Look, have you seen Harry or Ron anywhere? I need to find them."

But Draco was no longer listening to Longbottom. He took a few steps backwards until he finally hit the wall, startling himself.

"D-Draco?" said Longbottom, but Draco was already running.

He did not stop running until he was back in the dungeons, this time pounding on Snape's door.

"OPEN THE DOOR, SEV!" he shouted.

When nothing happened, he pulled out his wand again and muttered _Alohamora_. The door swung forwards and Draco hurried inside. The office was completely empty. Fighting to keep his calm, Draco ran back out without bothering to close the door after himself. He was running again, his mind going over what might be happening to Hermione at that very moment. All thoughts he'd had of Voldemort earlier that day had disappeared instantly with the news that something might have happened to Hermione, and with the possibility that, perhaps, Draco would never see her again.

The shock that engulfed him when he bumped against something mid-run and fell flat on his face was completely obscured by the sight of two pairs of legs dangling on the floor, and low quiet groans accompanying them.

"What the…" he said, but all became clear once some kind of sheet flew off the two boys on the floor next to him. " _Potter! Weasley!"_

* * *

"Look Malfoy, just go back to your common room, okay? We've got to go."

"No way, I'm coming with you!" Draco said at once.

Potter stared at him.

"Harry, why were they talking about Lupin?" Weasley said, urgently, but Potter was still staring at Draco, as though considering him.

"I'm coming," Draco told him.

It wasn't a question. It was a demand, and Potter knew it. He nodded and pulled off his cloak, his body becoming whole again.

"Fine," he said to Draco. "But you're going to do this _our_ way."

He pulled the cloak over himself, then over Weasley, and then held it out for Draco. Draco stared at it.

"Or not at all," Potter added.

* * *

 _Joint_

* * *

"I don't understand, Albus," said McGonagall. "How could this happen?"

"I am still trying to understand it myself," said Dumbledore with a great sigh. "I presume you have continued administering Remus the Wolfsbane Potion, Severus?"

"Of course I have," Snape muttered. "Something else is going on here. Something must have happened."

"Maybe he didn't take it on time," said Professor Sprout in a quiet voice.

"Poor Poppy," squeaked Professor Flitwick. "She must have been so scared."

"And imagine just how scared Ms. Granger and Ms. Weasley must be," said McGonagall suddenly. "Albus, you've got to send out a search party."

"I already have," said Dumbledore. "They are nowhere to be found."

"But how could this be?" said McGonagall, desperately. "They're too young to apparate. They can't have gone far!"

"Maybe they didn't leave willingly," said Snape. All eyes turned to him. "It is quite possible that he is holding them captive…has hurt them…killed them even."

"That's enough, Severus," said Dumbledore.

"Oh come on, the thought hasn't crossed any of your minds?" said Snape, looking round at all the other professors. "Remus Lupin is _dangerous_."

"Nonsense!" spluttered Slughorn. "He was one of my best students here at Hogwarts!"

"We all know of other best students you had who turned out to be quite the angels, Horace," said Snape through gritted teeth.

This silenced Slughorn at once. He sat back down in his chair and frowned at Snape, whose black eyes were still on Dumbledore.

"I told you that hiring him was a bad idea years ago, did I not?" he demanded.

Dumbledore merely smiled at him before turning back to McGonagall.

"Send out another search party, Minerva—have them try the forest…the village…"

"Hogsmeade?!" cried Professor Sinistra. "You don't think they'd go all the way to Hogsmeade?"

"Something tells me they might be there," said Dumbledore. "Horace, would you please go to St. Mungo's and deliver this letter for me? And then stay there with Poppy. I'll be in touch after we locate the others."

"Y-yes of course," said Slughorn, taking the letter from Dumbledore.

"Alright, we've all got work to do," said Dumbledore, clapping his hands.

The professors rose from their seats in unison and filed out of the room one after the other, Dumbledore being the last to leave. Just before closing the door behind him, he looked around the room and for a split second, a smile crossed his face. He then shut the door and walked away.

Harry, Ron and Draco threw the cloak off of themselves and stared around the empty room.

"Ron, sit down," said Harry, helping him to a chair.

Ron looked completely ghostly and pale. Harry wasn't sure if he even knew where he was at the moment.

"I think I need to sit too," Draco muttered, taking a seat on the opposite end of the staff room.

Harry remained standing between the two, thinking. For several minutes, there was complete and total silence in the room. Then, Draco broke it.

"We've got to get to Hogsmeade Village."

"How?" said Harry.

"I dunno, use the cloak?!" cried Draco, who thought they were wasting too much time sitting there and discussing it. Lord knew what on earth must be happening to Hermione that very second.

"Ron?" said Harry, turning to look at his pale-faced friend.

"Didn't your dad say he and L-Lupin and Sirius used to s-sneak around the school all the time?" said Ron, suddenly, jumping to his feet.

"Y-yeah," said Harry.

"So then they must've known how to secretly get to Hogsmeade," said Draco, also getting to his feet and taking a step towards Harry.

"Um," said Harry, concentrating hard to remember.

It had been such a long and difficult year that Harry found it extremely challenging to remember anything from before. His mind scattered as he fought hard to recollect any information that might be useful. _Hogsmeade…Hogsmeade….._ And then he remembered.

"Follow me," he said, urgently, moving towards the door.

"Ahem," said Draco.

Harry spun around and found Draco pointing at the invisibility cloak that they'd dropped on the floor.

"Oh right," said Harry, bending down to pick it up.

The three boys got underneath it and checked both corners before they left the staff room completely. They walked as quickly as they could without making noise or attracting any attention to themselves between passing ghosts and Filch's cat who seemed to have taken to following them.

"I thought this thing makes us invisible!" Draco hissed in Harry's ear.

"Cats can smell things human can't, you know," Harry whispered back.

"Oh you mean like muggle lovers?" said Draco, and he felt Ron push him slightly, but said nothing.

He hadn't meant what he'd said, but he was so angry now and so scared for Hermione, that he was willing to blame Harry and Ron for anything—anything at all—in order to make himself feel better.

Soon, the boys were out of the castle and headed across the grounds near where Hagrid's hut was stationed. Draco looked around curiously, wondering where it was that Harry was taking him and Ron. But Harry did not offer information and simply led the way through the semi-darkness, lit only by the full moon at the center of the sky. If it weren't for Draco's rush of adrenaline and extreme worry for Hermione's wellbeing, he'd be celebrating that his suspicions about Lupin had in fact been accurate. But there was no time for that now. He had to make sure that Hermione was alright. If she wasn't…

"This way," said Harry, moving the boys under the cloak towards the large tree just on the edge of the hill near Hagrid's Hut.

They looked around before pulling off the cloak and dropping it onto the ground before them.

"It's…a tree…." said Ron, questioningly.

"Yep," said Harry.

"The Whomping Willow," Draco clarified. "Why on earth are we standing in front of the _Whomping Willow_?"

"Because of what my dad told me," said Harry, turning to face the two boys. "There's no time to explain, but the way to get to Hogsmeade is to climb through a tunnel. And the tunnel begins here, right under the tree."

"Well brilliant," said Draco, sarcastically. "And how do we move the tree so we can get inside this tunnel?"

Even Ron didn't seem like arguing this point but simply stared at Harry.

"My dad said you have to press that knot over there," said Harry, grabbing a nearby branch long enough to complete this process, and pointing it towards the tree. He did this for several long minutes as Ron and Draco waited impatiently, but Harry finally managed it and the tree suddenly became incredibly still and completely immune to any evening wind.

"See?" said Harry, pointing at the base where, sure enough, there was a hole large enough for a person to climb through.

"Blimey," said Ron.

"Let's go then," said Draco, and he led the way.

They were climbing for what honestly felt like hours and hours, which did not calm Draco down. He was growing more anxious by the minute. How much time must have passed since he'd begun this search for Hermione? Two hours? Three? She could be dead by now. Shuddering at the thought, Draco climbed on.

Ron was feeling greener as he proceeded through the tunnel. His mother would tear him to _pieces_ if she found out that something had happened to his sister. He was supposed to have been protecting her. Although, he was not exactly the only brother she had at Hogwarts to protect her. But still…he would never forgive himself if this night didn't end well. He wasn't sure how he would face his mother again. It had to end well. It had to.

Harry on the other hand was worried not only about Ginny and Hermione, but also about Remus. From what it sounded like, Remus had hurt Madame Pomfrey so bad that she had to be admitted to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. He was probably so disgusted with himself that Harry feared what he might do, especially since it was still a full moon and he was still not…well, himself. And partly, Harry blamed himself for having kept his promise and not said anything to his father. A voice inside his head was now screaming at him that James would have known exactly what to do, and none of this would have happened.

At long last, the boys finally reached the end of the tunnel and moved a type of trap door to the side so they could climb through. Draco illuminated his wand as he was the first to climb out and waited for the other two to get out as well before they closed the door back up. They stood up and looked around.

"Where are we?" said Ron, in a slightly shaking voice.

"Dunno," said Harry. "Dad never specified where it led to exactly—the tunnel. Or maybe he did, I don't remember."

"We're in the Shrieking Shack," said Draco, looking around at the old wooden walls and the crooked ceiling above.

"Blimey!" hissed Ron. "The Shrieking Shack?! But it's the most—"

"—haunted building in Britain," said Draco, nodding.

"But then that must mean that we're just outside of Hogsmeade," said Harry.

Draco, thinking he'd heard something just above them, moved over the creaky floorboards and motioned for the others to follow him. A girl's faint voice was coming from somewhere upstairs, followed by someone's quiet whimpers.

"Wands out!" Harry hissed as they began to climb the creaky spiral staircase, ever so slowly.

The further up the stairs they went, the clearer the voice got until finally, Draco recognised it and broke at a run.

"WAIT!" Harry shouted, but he and Ron followed at the same speed and found themselves in a large, dusty, and filthy-looking room.

They looked around the grey, wooden floorboards, the dirty walls and the rusty old furniture until their eyes landed on—

"HERMIONE!" shouted Draco, crossing the room at once. "ARE YOU ALRIGHT?"

Harry gasped as he moved inside and saw that Hermione was sporting a terrible cut on her right cheek, which was bleeding now.

"I'm fine!" she said, accepting the furious hug that Draco now gave her. "What are you all doing here?"

"Where's…?" began Harry, but Ron beat him to it as he finally spotted a little redheaded figure curled up in the corner of the room.

"Ginny!" he cried, rushing to her aid.

Ginny stood up to give him a big hug and Harry saw that she was covered in tears.

"What happened?" he said, panicked. "Why are you here?"

Hermione struggled to get out of Draco's grip but he was holding her hard, so she simply pointed at the other corner of the room. Harry, Ron and Draco all spun around to find a large, brown, and furry wolf crouched in the corner. It seemed to be _whimpering_ and its large black eyes were blinking very rapidly, as though holding back _tears_.

" _Moony_?!" gasped Harry, taking a step forwards, but Hermione grabbed his arm and held him back.

"Don't!" she yelled.

"Gettoffme!" Harry yelled back, but Draco also seized his arm and pushed him backwards, knocking him off his feet.

The wolf in the corner growled.

"It's fine!" Harry shouted, getting to his feet. "It's okay, it's only Professor Lupin, Hermione!"

"I know!" Hermione shouted back, startling Harry.

"You…you know?"

" _Of course I know!_ "

Ginny moved to stand next to Hermione and Harry and Ron stared at them.

"Harry, Professor Lupin has not hurt us," said Hermione. "I'm bleeding because I cut myself on the wood before I got here."

"But why _are_ you here?" Draco demanded of her.

"That's my business," said Hermione, giving him a serious look.

"And why is Ginny in tears?" said Ron, panicked.

"That's her business too," said Hermione, equally as agitated with him.

"But—"

" _Look_ ," said Harry, raising his voice to get all of their attention. "You guys should all go back through the tunnel. I'll stay here with Moony and—"

"We are _NOT_ leaving him here!" Hermione shouted, angrily, and Ginny nodded her head furiously.

Harry gaped at them, while Draco muttered "Who's Moony?"

"I don't think you guys understand," said Harry, impatiently. "This is _Professor_ Lupin, you know, our Transfiguration teacher? He's a werewolf and it's not safe here while he's transformed and—"

"No Harry, it's _you_ who doesn't get it!"

It wasn't Hermione who said these words, but Ginny. Harry's eyes widened. He had never seen Ginny so mad, especially at him. She had always been rather gracious towards him—always came to his defense. But now, she was glaring furiously at him.

"What don't I get?" he finally said, looking from her to Hermione.

Both girls moved away from the boys and towards the wolf in the corner, who whimpered again.

"We're protecting him," Hermione said, gently placing a hand on the wolf's back and patting it.

The three boys stared at them.

"They've gone mental!" Ron cried suddenly. "MENTAL!"

"Hush, Ron!" Harry said, but Draco was nodding his agreement now.

" _Mental_ ," he repeated Ron's words, and Harry suddenly realised that neither knew the whole story—the full extent of it, at least…but Hermione and Ginny seemed to have figured it out.

"Is that why you two…came here tonight…?" Harry asked them, in a small voice.

The girls nodded at him, both still looking highly concerned as they eyed the wolf they were now comforting.

"How you doing, Moony?" Harry asked him, finally realising that he had not said a word to him since he'd entered the room.

The wolf whimpered again and looked away.

"Okay," said Draco, taking a seat on a creaky old chair next to the large bed. "We have to think of something to do—"

But at that, the door burst open again and a large black dog hurled inside, looking round vigorously until it spotted the wolf.

"Sirius!" Harry shouted, half excitedly and half anxiously.

The dog paid no attention to him but ran right at the wolf, biting it hard on the leg.

It all happened very quickly. The wolf jumped to its feet, howling madly at the pain of the bite and at the same time knocking both girls to the bed nearby. The dog barked loudly and ran out of the room, followed by the wolf who was shouting furiously now. Harry, Ron and Draco ran to help the girls back up, but they both refused their help and made to run for the door, only to be stopped by the boys.

"We have to help him!" Ginny shouted in her small voice.

"NO!" yelled Harry, Ron and Draco at once.

"Let—go—of—me—Draco—Malfoy!" Hermione bellowed, but his grip on her arm was very firm and strong.

"You're not going after that animal," he said to her through gritted teeth.

Hermione glared at him.

"Look, that dog was Sirius," said Harry. "As in, Sirius _Black_. He and Moony—I mean, Professor Lupin—have been friends since school. He'll know how to calm him…how to take care of him."

"Everyone up at the school knows you guys are missing," Ron told the girls.

"And that _I_ kidnapped you or whatever," said Harry, urgently.

"We have to get back immediately," Draco added.

The girls stopped struggling against them and glanced at each other, both of them shocked.

"R-really?" said Ginny, panicked. "They think we're…missing?"

"Yeah," said Harry, quietly. "We should get back—they're all really worried."

" _Really_ worried," Draco added, giving Hermione a fervent look. She ignored him.

"Okay," she told the others. "Okay, if that dog is Sirius, you say—" Harry nodded "—then okay. Let's go back. But I want to talk to Dumbledore."

"Yeah, Dumbledore," said Ginny, nodding her head vigorously. "Dumbledore is who we need to talk to."

"Fine," said Harry and Ron, leading the way out of the room and down the spiral staircase back to the trap door leading to the tunnel.

"Maybe you'll explain to _him_ why you ended up in the Shrieking Shack tonight, of all places," Draco muttered under his breath.

* * *

"Please do explain," said Dumbledore, smiling kindly at the girls.

Hermione and Ginny gulped nervously as they looked around the office at the teachers there, at their parents, and at the three boys who had brought them back to the castle.

"I-it was my fault c-completely, professor," said Hermione suddenly. "I found out about...about Professor Lupin's condition when I came to visit Madame Pomfrey in the hospital and I learned that she was sent to St. Mungo's. She'd been so nice to me this year with all my injuries, so I thought I'd visit her. But at the same time, I've been having my suspicions about Professor Lupin all year. And so, given what day it is today… I suppose I put two and two together…" she took a deep breath. "Ginny was with me and we decided to go out and find him together. W-we thought we could help. We…we followed him out into the woods…into the Whomping Willow…a-and then through the t-tunnel to the…the Shrieking Shack…in H-Hogsmeade."

"It's alright, Ms. Granger," said McGonagall, quietly. "It's alright."

Hermione nodded before continuing.

"Professor Lupin was already...transformed when we got there. And I'd read a lot about werewolves so I figured, since he's been taking this Wolfsbane potion, he'll have his human mind with him even during the transformation. So I spoke to him and I explained that Madame Pomfrey was alright."

"He was feeling very sad about it," said Ginny, quickly.

Mrs. Weasley's hand on her shoulder tightened just as Lily's hand on Harry's shoulder tightened as well.

"Wolfsbane Potion?" said Lily.

"Yes," Dumbledore cut in. "Professor Snape has been brewing it for Professor Lupin every full moon this year. It is a potion that gives Professor Lupin the ability to transform at the full moon but still retain his human mind and thoughts."

Lily looked round at Snape in awe, but he merely continued to stare at the wall ahead, his black eyes fuming. Harry looked up at his father who shook his head at him, as if to say " _Now is not the time"_. He nodded his understanding and looked back at Hermione as she continued her story.

"We kept him company there. W-we had no idea that everyone had been looking for us or that they thought we were hurt...and then Draco and Harry and Ron and…and Sirius came and found us."

Draco was standing in the corner of the room, his back leaning against one of the walls, his arms folded across his chest, and his eyes glaring at Hermione as she told the story.

"We're sorry we caused so much trouble," said Ginny, in a small voice. She looked up at Harry sitting beside her. "We're sorry the whole school thought _you'd_ hurt us, Harry."

He smiled at her.

"Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, suddenly. "Might I ask you to please escort Ms. Granger, Ms. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing? I dare say a little hot chocolate will do them good."

"I'll come along," said Sirius, jumping from his seat.

"I'm sure Mr. Longbottom would also like to join," said Dumbledore, winking at Neville.

Neville awkwardly stood up and followed the others out of the office. Harry looked back just before the door closed, and caught sight of Dumbledore. His clear blue eyes winked at Harry's emerald green ones, in a sort of reassuring way, and suddenly, Harry was filled with a powerful reassurance that Remus was going to be just fine.

* * *

"How are you lot doing?" Sirius asked as they entered the hospital wing and found that a tray with 7 cups of steaming hot chocolate had been magicked there.

"Fine," they muttered in response, each taking a cup and finding a seat on an empty bed or chair.

Sirius put his cup on one of the bedside tables and sunk into a chair, placing his feet up on a bed.

"Quite a night."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. He turned to Neville. "How did you know we'd gone?"

"Are you forgetting that I've known you all my life?" said Neville. " _Of course_ you'd go out looking for them. You'd never let a responsible adult handle it." Harry rolled his eyes. "I knew that wherever you went, Remus would probably be there. I'd heard the rumours too. And I figured Sirius would be best in handling the…well, the situation. So I just used the same thought process that I think you used…and then I remembered that story about the Whomping Willow that James told us three summers ago, before Lily stopped him."

Harry smirked.

"Well, at least his name has been cleared now," said Ginny.

"How do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Students saw you coming back with us," said Hermione, before Ginny could answer. "They'll figure it out now...that you were not after us to hurt us."

Harry glanced sideways at Draco who looked miserably uncomfortable and sipped his drink quietly. Draco was eyeing Sirius with curiosity, wondering whether Sirius would acknowledge him or say anything at all about his relation to him…ask him any questions…wonder anything at all. Everyone else's parents had shown up at Dumbledore's office, but Draco's, as expected, had not. Did this strike as anything odd for Sirius? Or did he simply not care?

"Where is Professor Lupin?" Ginny asked Sirius suddenly.

"Yeah, where have you left him?" Hermione asked, her question also directed at Sirius.

"He's back in the Shrieking Shack," said Sirius, calmly. "That's his place of refuge at the full moon. He'll be there until he's transformed back…and then he'll return here."

"He looked awful," Ginny said, in a small voice.

"He's been worse," said Sirius, reassuringly.

Ginny nodded.

"And Madame Pomfrey?" Harry asked.

"I overheard Dumbledore say that he got Slughorn's message—she'll also be fine," said Sirius.

Harry nodded.

"I'm glad we're all okay," said Ginny.

"Especially Professor Lupin," Hermione added, nodding.

Harry looked up at Sirius again.

"Will he be?" he asked, not needing to elaborate since Sirius understood at once.

"Of course he will be," he said, waving his hand at this nonsense. "After all, he's Moony."

"Yeah," laughed Harry. "He's Moony."

Harry could feel Ron's eyes staring at him intently, but refused to meet them. He just could not deal with it at the moment.

" _I_ for one cannot _believe_ that Snape has been brewing this Wolfsbane potion for Remus this year," said Sirius, in a brightened tone of voice.

"Sev is an amazing person," said Draco suddenly.

All heads turned to him. He had not spoken once since they'd entered the hospital wing. He glared at them, one by one, practically daring them to say one more word about Snape.

"I don't think you can make that kind of statement without actual proof," said Ron, bitterly.

"He _is_ a rather frightening teacher," Ginny agreed, quietly.

Harry smirked at her, but his smirk faded very quickly because the thing that Sirius said next shocked him to the core. Sirius sat up in his chair and looked directly at Draco.

"I will personally find him afterwards and thank him for helping my friend like so."

Harry thought his insides were going to spill out any second. _Sirius Black_ had just promised to thank _Severus Snape_. WHAT ON EARTH WAS HAPPENING WITH THE WORLD?! And Draco looked to be quite pleased with this answer because he nodded, glanced sideways at Hermione, and exchanged a smile with her. Even Hermione no longer seemed upset with him.

Yep, the world was definitely upside-down now.

* * *

 **Thanks and the last chapter of year 2 will be updated within the next couple of hours, depending on how fast I finish it**


	19. Year 2: The Leaving Feast

**A/N : This chapter marks the end of year 2. Hope you like! Also, like I've said, I will now be moving along with my other fanfic for a couple of chapters before I return to this one for year 3. Enjoy the break! I'll be back very soon **

**Disclaimer : Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks**

* * *

CHAPTER 19: YEAR 2—THE LEAVING FEAST

* * *

 _Harry_

* * *

"Look, I'm really, really, really, really, _really_ sorry!" Harry repeated for about the millionth time over the course of that evening.

"Mhm," said Ron, tossing a sweater into his trunk and moving to the other side of the dormitory to fetch a book he'd left on the floor.

"Ron, _talk to me_ ," said Harry, tiredly.

"I'm talking," said Ron, shrugging.

He continued to pack without looking at Harry, and Harry continued to moan and groan for Ron to listen to him.

"Here," said Ron, tossing Harry _Hogwarts: A History_. Harry let it drop to his bed and frowned at Ron.

"That's your copy," he said. "I gave it to you to keep, Ron. I have loads more at home."

"I don't need it," said Ron, simply.

He turned his back on Harry and clicked his trunk shut. He paused for a moment, apparently thinking, and then retreated to their dorm bathroom to get his things from there.

"I couldn't say anything—you know I couldn't," Harry tried again. "I wanted to, so many times! Just ask Nev!"

"Neville knew?" said Ron, appearing from the bathroom and staring at Harry with wide eyes. " _Everyone except for me knew?!_ "

"No, not everyone!" said Harry, quickly. "Nev and I knew because we grew up with Remus around all the time. Of course we knew!"

"Draco Malfoy knew too," Ron muttered as he re-entered the bathroom and continued to get his things.

"I honestly don't know how he found out," said Harry, truthfully. "He's a nosey git—you know that. I'm sure he just followed Remus around."

"And Hermione?" Ron called from the bathroom. "And my own little sister? Why, of course she knew. Everyone knew! Only stupid Ron Weasley was kept out of the loop."

"RON!" said Harry, whose head was already aching from all this.

Ron poked his head out of the bathroom again and raised his eyebrows at Harry.

"Are you yelling at me?"

"No, not yelling!" Harry said, very quickly. "Just begging you—please, you've got to believe me." Ron sighed. "It wasn't my secret to tell… I did promise him."

Ron considered this for a moment, then nodded and sat on Seamus' perfectly made bed.

"I just feel stupid about not knowing," said Ron, quietly.

"Don't," said Harry. "It's not that big a deal—honestly."

"Not that big a deal?" Ron repeated with disbelief. "He's a _werewolf_ , Harry!"

The door behind them shut. They spun around to find Neville standing there with a book in his hands and a grin on his face.

"Still on the same topic then, I see?" he said casually as he moved forwards and looked around the rather empty room. "All packed?"

"Almost," Ron grumbled, moving back to his trunk and opening it again.

"You two are talking again?" said Neville.

Harry shrugged and glanced over at Ron who met his eye and then nodded slowly.

"Good," said Neville. "It's a stupid thing to fight over—Remus had the right to decide who should know his secret."

"Are you packed then?" said Harry, who was desperate for a change of conversation.

"Yep," said Neville. "The feast is about to start."

"We'll be down in a minute," Harry informed him.

Neville nodded and left the dormitory. Harry helped Ron close up his trunk again and the pair of them sat side-by-side on his made bed.

"So," said Harry, slowly. "Do you still want to ride the train back home together?"

"Yeah, of course," said Ron. "Don't be stupid."

"Well, you've been ignoring me for three weeks now," said Harry, shrugging. "You can't blame me for wondering…"

Ron turned to face him.

"We'll always be best mates," he said, and Harry smiled because Ron's face told him that he really and truly meant it. "But you're still a git."

At this, Harry punched him hard on the shoulder and Ron laughed loudly, though Harry joined in on the laughter. Truth be told, he was more grateful than ever that Ron had been by his side through all the struggles and challenges that year. He was definitely going to make it up to him.

"Come on, I'm starving," said Ron finally, and he headed out of the dormitory too.

Harry made to follow when something out of the corner of his eye stopped him. He glanced back at his bedside table—at the letter propped up against the half-full glass of water. Harry sighed as his mind went over the contents of the letter which he'd already memorised in full. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, reminding himself that it was for the best.

XXXXXXXXXX

"But why?" Harry demanded as Remus moved to the end of his office and folded up several scrolls of parchment that had been dangling from the cupboard.

Harry had just received Remus' note that morning and had rushed to his office as quickly as he could.

"It's for the best," said Remus, softly. "You can understand that, can't you, Harry?"

"But Dumbledore—"

"Dumbledore has already done a great deal for me, for which I will forever be grateful. And he _has_ offered me a chance to stay, but leaving was my decision completely. It is time. Surely I can't go on teaching here now that word has got out as to the nature of my condition, can I?"

"But who—?"

"It wasn't Draco Malfoy, if that's what you're thinking," said Remus, sternly. "My best guess is Snape."

" _Snape_?!" cried Harry. He was now sinking into Remus' chair and watching him fold up the last of his clothes and place them in his trunk. "But if he's been brewing this Wolfsbane potion for you all year, then—"

"On Dumbledore's orders," Remus added, giving Harry a pointed look. "He hasn't forgotten all the history between us…and unfortunately," he sighed sadly, "…I doubt he'll ever forget it. You have your father and Sirius to thank for that."

"Snape deserved what he got," Harry muttered.

Remus gave him a curious look over his shoulder but finished his packing and locked up his trunk.

"But can't you at least stay until the end of the year?" said Harry, desperately. "Why do you have to leave now? We've still got three more weeks left—we've still got exams…and the leaving feast."

"The leaving feast will have to happen without me," said Remus, tiredly. "Exams will be administered by Professor McGonagall. All Transfiguration classes henceforth are cancelled until further notice, but that shouldn't conflict with exams because it would've been revision lessons anyway and you can all do that on your own."

Harry got to his feet.

"Moony, why won't you stay for the feast?"

Remus considered him for a minute.

"Harry, I don't expect you to understand, you're so young. But I've been a monster my whole life— _let me finish_. It's just got out now and for everyone who hasn't known, I've only _just_ become a monster. Before, I was just boring old Professor Lupin—Harry, _please_ don't interrupt. Anyway, I don't think I could go back into that Great Hall and face them all…not now that they…know."

"But it wouldn't matter to anyone," Harry said in a voice barely more than a whisper.

Remus smiled sadly.

"It's very sweet of you to say that, but you know it's far from the truth."

He picked up his jacket and threw it over his shoulder, also grabbing two more books from his desk and holding them under his arm.

"Now," he said, taking a hold of his bag. "This isn't goodbye, you know that. We'll still see each other around a lot. I'll still visit you and your mum and dad. But for this summer, at least… I think it's best if I lay low…go out and find another job, a place to live…you see, I've been warm and comfortable at Hogwarts for nearly 7 years now, jumping in between positions. I think I've taught more subjects at this school than anyone else has in a century. But now, it's time to start all over."

Harry only nodded as Remus placed a hand on his shoulder and winked down at him, before turning around and leaving him alone in the packed up office. Harry stared after him, thinking…wondering…if he had not listened to Remus earlier that year and if he had actually told his parents about how each cycle was getting worse than the last…could all this have been prevented?

XXXXXXXXXX

"Harry?" said Ron, who poked his head back into the dormitory. "You coming?"

"Yeah," said Harry, turning away from the letter on his bedside table. "Yeah, let's go."

They left the empty common room together and arrived at the Great Hall just as Dumbledore was getting to his feet to give the end-of-year speech. Harry felt a hole in his stomach as he glanced over at the staff table and saw the empty chair where Remus would normally be sitting. Ron patted him on the back and he smiled back at him.

"Well, I can't say I've never been more grateful that a school year has come to an end," said Dumbledore. The Great Hall laughed in unison as he smiled down at them all. "But I think this year has proved to be a lesson for all of us—don't ever trust in the hearsay. Trust your own mind and let your mind govern you and no one else." McGonagall began applauding, which sent the rest of the Great Hall into soft applause as well. "But let's put all that behind us and congratulate Gryffindor for winning the House Cup!" Again, there was applause and a few cheers from the Gryffindor table. "And Slytherin on their marvelous Quidditch victory!" More applause followed and soft cheers came from the Slytherin table. "Also, let us all wish luck to our graduates who will be leaving us next year to go and pursue bigger dreams!" More applause. "But now, it is time that a number of certain awards were administered. I shall now ask the following people to join me up here: Hermione Granger, Ginevra Weasley, Ronald Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy."

The Great Hall grew instantly silent. Harry and the others slowly rose from their seats and made their way to the front, where Dumbledore was standing (in the spot McGonagall usually stood for the Sorting Ceremony). Dumbledore was holding 6 shiny ribbons and beaming as the six lined up in front of him.

"Awards for special services to the school," Dumbledore called out to the rest of the Great Hall. "First, to Ginevra Weasley for displaying incredible loyalty." Dumbledore pulled one silver ribbon from the six in his hands and gently placed it over Ginny's head. She smiled up at him with sparkling eyes and turned to face the crowd as Dumbledore moved down the line.

"To Hermione Granger for equal graciousness and nobility." Hermione said _thanks_ to Dumbledore as he placed the silver ribbon over her head, and he winked at her.

"To Neville Longbottom for the most creative improvising that Hogwarts has seen these many years."

"To Ronald Weasley for great determination and outstanding courage."

Dumbledore paused before taking a stand right in between Harry and Malfoy. Although Harry was very honoured to be recognised, he was not smiling because he felt weird receiving an award in front of a bunch of people that were terrified to be in the same room with him for a whole year. And Malfoy looked pretty uncomfortable himself, as though he wished anything for it to be over already.

"To Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy," said Dumbledore, more softly now, "For their kind hearts, their loyalty and generosity, and most importantly, their willingness to work together while others were in great danger."

Dumbledore broke apart two golden ribbons and placed one over each boy. They turned in unison to face the crowd with the rest of the others, and the hall immediately exploded with applause and cheers as several staff and students got to their feet as well. Feeling himself going red, Harry looked sideways at Ron who was beaming at the Great Hall, and smirked.

When they returned to their seats, Dumbledore sat back down in his chair as well and the glorious feast resumed.

"Hey Harry!" said Wood, calling him down the table. Harry glanced sideways. "Glad to hear it all worked out, mate, but you'd better practice this summer!"

"I will, Wood," said Harry, grinning at him.

"Hey Harry!" cried Angelina Johnson from a few seats over, "Great job on your award. Hope you have a good summer!"

"Uh, thanks Angelina!" Harry called back.

"Oy, Harry mate!"

"Congrats on your award, Harry!"

"See you soon, Harry!"

"Uh, thanks guys, yeah you too, yeah it's great. Thanks, you too," Harry kept repeating these words, feeling dazed and slightly confused at all the niceties that he was getting from his fellow Gryffindors.

He met Neville's eyes and Neville simply shrugged. Beside him, Ginny was saying, "Oh _please_ do get a cat, Hermione! Mum would never let me and I'd love to play with one!"

The following morning, Dean and Seamus each gave Harry apologetic smiles as they helped him, Ron and Neville get their trunks down to the common room. Hedwig hooted happily as Harry carried her cage down Gryffindor Tower and to the Entrance Hall, while surrounded by the chatter of his fellow Gryffindors. Everyone everywhere was wishing each other a happy summer and promising to write and meet up at Diagon Alley soon. Harry looked round at Ron.

"We're still going to Diagon Alley together at the end of the summer, right?"

Ron rolled his eyes at him and ran to catch up with Wood and the other members of the Quidditch team. Harry sniggered.

"Harry!"

He turned to the source of the voice and found that Dumbledore was leaning against a pillar near the entrance to the Great Hall, his arms folded across his chest and a beaming smile on his face. Harry rushed past the crowds of students heading out into the scorching hot morning with their things.

"Hello Harry," said Dumbledore once Harry had joined him.

"Hello professor," said Harry, smiling back.

"I wanted to make sure that you were alright before you went back home."

It took Harry a moment to gather that Dumbledore was talking about Remus. Harry's smile slowly faded and he found himself staring up at the professor with curiosity and a bit of sadness.

"All good things soon meet their course," said Dumbledore with a reassuring smile. "None of what happened this year was your fault, Harry—I trust you know that."

Harry found himself nodding very slowly. He set Hedwig's cage down on the floor beside him. Dumbledore glanced at the ribbon around Harry's neck and smiled again.

"You deserve that," he said. "Your parents will be very proud when they see it."

Dumbledore placed a hand on Harry's head before he turned away from him and began to descend from the now emptying hall. Harry stared after him until Ron and Neville poked their heads around the exit and called his name again.

"Hey Potter!"

Harry turned around to find Draco Malfoy standing in front of him, with Hermione just a few feet behind, accompanied by four boys, all of whom had their arms crossed.

"Yeah?" said Harry, eyeing them with curiosity.

Malfoy held out his hand and Harry hesitated before shaking it. They nodded at each other and then Malfoy turned and walked away from him, his little gang of friends following at his wake.

"W-what was that all about?" Ron wondered as he joined Harry's side and stared after them.

"New beginnings," said Harry, simply.

After saying goodbye to Hagrid, Harry, Ron and Neville boarded the train with Fred and George. They sat with them for a little while before deciding to find a compartment with people in their own year. Hermione and Ginny were also in the compartment and for the entire duration of the train ride back to King's Cross, the five played Gobbstones over and over again, while laughing in between chocolate frogs and licorice wands. Harry was feeling more and more like himself as the train neared London and by the end, he was laughing with the others.

"So how was your first year at Hogwarts?" he asked Ginny.

"Exactly how I'd imagined it would be," she giggled.

Harry smiled at her. Hermione threw down her cards after a game of Exploding Snap with Ron and turned to Harry.

"Have you spoken with Professor Lupin yet?"

"No not yet," said Harry quietly. When Hermione didn't turn her gaze from him, he added, "He needs time."

Hermione paused, then nodded.

Harry turned back to the window and smiled softly at the clear blue sky, the sparkling sun, and the incredibly green hills that passed by them so rapidly.

"What are you smiling about?" Neville wondered, a cocky smile on his face.

The others looked up at Harry and he met each of their eyes in turn.

"Thank you," he said, simply.

"For what?" said Ginny.

"This year was no piece of cake," Harry told her. "But none of you guys ever doubted me even for a second—even when I doubted myself."

Hermione and Neville exchanged a smile and Ron grinned at Harry. Ginny however, placed a hand on his and squeezed it gently. He met her eyes.

"What are friends for?"

* * *

 _Draco_

* * *

"You want a licorice wand?" said Sirius, holding the fresh pack out for Draco to take one.

"Uh, no thanks," Draco muttered.

Sirius lowered the pack and nodded slowly.

It was maybe twenty minutes since they'd left the hospital wing for a walk. Sirius had been very insistent and though Draco had wanted to stay with Hermione, he knew he couldn't pass up such an opportunity. The two were now walking along the lake's shore, their feet dragging them through the cool air of the early morning. Draco started as he realised that most students were only waking up now. He'd been up all night with Hermione in the hospital wing, going over what had happened that night multiple times.

"Draco," said Sirius, in an estranged sort of voice. Draco glanced up at him. "I pulled you out here because we needed to talk."

"Yeah, I agree," Draco muttered.

"A talk that is long overdue," Sirius added.

Draco simply nodded. If his mother could see him now, she'd surely have a fit. But he knew in his heart that this was something he'd waited for, for a really long time, so he walked on beside Sirius, waiting for him to speak. Sirius looked to be extremely nervous. His hands were twisting madly and he kept taking deep breaths. Finally, he cleared his throat and stopped to face Draco. Draco looked up at him, waiting.

"I want you to know that I didn't know about you until several years after you were born," he began. "When I was sixteen, I ran away from home. Since then, I've been kept in the dark about pretty much everything that's happened to any Black."

"You r-ran away?"

"Yeah," said Sirius, and Draco caught a smirk cross his face for a split second before he grew serious again. "Your mother and her sister made it clear a long time ago that I was not a member of the family. And to be perfectly honest with you, I never wanted to be anyway."

"Why not?"

Sirius hesitated.

"Look, I don't want you to think badly of your family—after all, they're still your family." Draco made a face which unfortunately, Sirius caught. "Is everything okay with your family?"

"Perfect," Draco muttered, "If you don't count the fact that father's never home and mother would gladly take back having me if it would make her life easier."

Sirius stared at Draco for a long time, so Draco looked away from him after a while.

"You were saying?" he said, quietly.

"I was saying," repeated Sirius, "The Blacks have always shared certain…beliefs that I never really…um, identified with."

"Favouritism for purebloods," Draco muttered, and he could feel Sirius' eyes on him. "It still exists—I'm living it."

"Sorry about that," said Sirius. "It seems to me that you're…well, living my childhood in a way."

"I'm not," Draco snapped. "Mother's told me about how rich the Blacks used to be. She told me about how each child had heirlooms and inheritances and vaults at Gringotts filled with gold and anything they could ever want."

"Yes, but most of that was lost in the war," Sirius added.

"So what?" said Draco, angrily. "My parents never had money—at least not in the time that I was alive. My only decent meals have been at Hogwarts. I'd never even had a broom before Sev sent me one for Christmas last year. I've been completely alone all this time…I can see where you'd be confused about how similar our childhoods have been."

"You think my childhood was all flying ponies and suppers of gold?" said Sirius.

Draco shrugged.

"It may have been before Hogwarts, but after I was sorted into Gryffindor, it all went downhill from there." He took a deep breath before continuing. "The day the Sorting Hat placed me in Gryffindor, I was dead to my mother. She hit me quite a lot in the coming years, and my dear cousins were no better. Christmas of my sixth year just proved to be one too many times. I ran off to my best mate's house and my mother signed me out of the Black Family Tree. It was bound by old magic of course, so she couldn't stop me from inheriting my fair share of goods after everyone else died off."

"So you're rich now then?" said Draco, dully.

"Yes but not because of my inheritances," said Sirius. "I gave those all away. I was not dim enough to keep 'em. I didn't want any association left with my parents."

Draco nodded.

"You know, the last time I had an intense walk like this with someone, it was Harry," said Sirius, conversationally. "You and he don't really see eye to eye, do you?"

Draco shrugged.

"He's a lot like you," Sirius added and Draco looked round at him with raised eyebrows.

He meant to argue but he didn't want to ruin the moment so instead he kept on walking with him. Truth be told, he was actually enjoying this very much. He'd dreamt about this moment for so long and now that he was happening, he just didn't want to wake up. He'd finally met someone— _someone decent_ —in his own blood and family…someone who _wanted_ to have these deep and meaningful conversations with him…someone who didn't think he was just a worthless waste of space…someone who actually _cared_.

"So you were disowned from the Black family," said Draco, slowly. "That's why you never came forward? That's why I never knew you existed?"

"Yeah," said Sirius. "Unfortunately you can't pick your parents—believe me, I've tried."

Draco smirked at this.

"I suppose I do owe you an apology," said Sirius, suddenly. "After that day at Flourish & Blotts…well, I got scared. I doubted that returning to any ties from my family would ever do any good." Draco looked round at him again. "I do hope that one day you'll be able to accept me as something of a cousin to you."

"Well," said Draco, slowly. "That depends…"

"On?"

"On whether you can give as good presents as Sev can," said Draco, grinning. When Sirius continued to look at him appalled, he added, "I'm only kidding!"

Sirius chuckled.

"I guess I could've done better than some quill…I didn't want to go too extravagant and not giving something at all was also not an option…not that now we knew each other."

Draco nodded, his heart thumping a little more quickly as he thought back to that moment when he'd thanked _Snape_ for the quill. He looked up at Sirius again.

"The quill was perfect," he said, smiling at him. "And I'd really like it if we could be friends."

Sirius nodded.

"I'd like it if we could be friends too."

THREE WEEKS LATER

Draco nodded at Dumbledore before he jumped the last step and moved back to his own cheering table.

"Lemme see that!" said Avery, holding out a hand.

Draco pulled the golden ribbon over his head and handed it to him. Avery examined it with sparkling eyes and then handed it back to Draco with approval smeared across his face. Draco grinned at him and then returned to his food.

"I heard McGonagall's going back to Transfiguration next year," said Millicent Bulstrode loudly so that the whole table could hear her.

"Who's going to teach us defense then?" said another girl, worriedly.

"I hope it's someone good."

"Did you all hear that Lupin resigned?"

"Yeah, he was too ashamed to go on here."

"Lupin was one of the best teachers this school's ever had," Draco declared, and he actually managed to turn heads towards him.

"What?" said Avery, glancing at all the staring students. "He's right, you know."

Draco grinned at him.

He'd had time over the last few weeks to think over everything that had happened. It gave him a certain satisfaction to know that he'd been right all along about his suspicions regarding Lupin. But he also hadn't forgotten that time he served detention with him and how understanding and compassionate Lupin had been. Besides, Draco's new favourite person was definitely very fond of Lupin... _and_ they were best mates since school. Even now, Draco found himself smiling again. He couldn't believe that he finally had a cousin...a decent one. After nearly thirteen years of struggling by himself, he was no longer alone.

That night, he, Avery, Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle played Gobbstones and Exploding Snap until the early hours of the morning. They finally drifted off to sleep and awoke panicked because none of them had packed. They hurriedly threw their things around the dormitory and then rushed through the crowd of students in the Entrance Hall, all shouting their goodbyes and "have a nice summer"'s to each other. Draco looked over the heads of students, hoping to catch a glimpse of Hermione, but he guessed that she was probably well on her way to Hogsmeade Station by now, if not already there.

When the boys arrived there, Draco finally spotted Hermione being helped by that giant Hagrid who was loading her trunk onto the train. Draco helped his friends do the same and waited while Hermione said goodbye. Finally, she turned around and spotted him. A smile spread across her face and she ran across the station to give him a hug.

"Thought you'd leave without saying goodbye?" Draco teased her. She laughed into his shoulder, then pulled away from him.

"Congratulations on your award," she said, smiling down at the golden ribbon across his neck.

"Oh, yeah thanks," Draco muttered. "Your pal Potter around here anywhere?"

Hermione stared at him.

"W-why?"

"I want to tell him something," said Draco, simply.

Hermione looked almost frightened at this and Draco couldn't help but smirk. However, just as he was about to explain himself, he spotted Potter walking a little ways behind her.

"Excuse me," Draco muttered and he left Hermione to gape after him as he approached his school nemesis.

"Hey Potter!" he called.

Potter looked almost as stunned as Hermione had been when he realised that Draco was addressing him.

"Yeah?" he said after a moment's hesitation.

Draco struggled on the verge of words. He knew he had to say something but he didn't know what. Instead, he reached his hand and Potter reluctantly shook it. Despite the many eyes that they could feel on themselves now, they each gave the other a "take care" nod and then Draco turned and walked away to where Hermione was waiting for him with Blaise, Avery, Crabbe and Goyle.

"What was that about?" she asked Draco.

Draco merely shrugged and then cleared his throat, indicating his friends just behind her. Hermione looked round at them, confused, and then back at Draco, comprehension dawning on her. He waited. Hermione sighed and turned back to his friends.

"I hope you all have a good summer then," she said, brightly.

Avery and Blaise exchanged looks and Crabbe and Goyle simply grunted. Draco glared at them and they all quickly jumped, muttering "Y-yeah, you too."

Hermione turned back to Draco.

"Meadow as soon as you can?"

"Definitely," he said, pulling her into another hug. "Oh hey, I forgot to tell you," he released her and grinned broadly. "You were wrong."

"About what?!" Hermione demanded.

Draco laughed. He loved telling her when she was wrong.

"About who the quill was from," he clarified. "It wasn't Snape after all—though I thought it was him for a long time…"

"Then who…?"

But Hermione didn't need clarification. Her eyes widened in shock and Draco nodded.

"Oh Draco," she whispered, clapping a hand to her mouth. "Oh that's… _wonderful_."

"Yeah," Draco agreed. "Yeah, it is."

He watched her return to her new friends and then boarded the train with his own. For most of the journey, they were quiet, each catching up on the missed sleep. But around the time the lady with the food trolley began to make her rounds, they livened up a bit and even cracked open a couple of games.

"So wait a second, how did you know for sure that Potter wasn't behind it?" Avery asked after they'd discussed the events from earlier that month.

Blaise gave Draco a pointed look and then proceeded to tell the tale of their Polyjuice Potion adventure. The others listened with great enthusiasm mixed with incredulity.

"So you two turned yourselves into Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas?!" Avery exclaimed once Blaise finished his story.

Draco and Blaise shrugged.

"Blimey," said Goyle.

"That's scary," said Crabbe.

"And wicked dangerous," said Avery, grinning. "Didn't know you guys had it in you—good job."

Draco grinned at him.

For the rest of the train ride, the boys either played games or discussed their amazing Quidditch victory or their abysmal exam results. But Draco's mind was completely elsewhere. He was thinking over his conversation with Sirius, as he had every minute for the last three weeks. He couldn't believe— _couldn't believe_ —that he now had a decent family relative that lived just next door to his secondary home. He was just an owl away. If ever should Draco need someone to talk to, he finally had that someone. For the first time in nearly thirteen years, he finally had that source of comfort. His mother would surely flip if she found out.

"You'll write a lot this summer then?" Blaise was telling Draco as they exited the train a few hours later and stepped out onto the station platform.

"Course I will," said Draco, helping him get his bag down.

"Oy, who do you reckon will be the new defense against the dark arts teacher next year?" Avery wondered.

"Maybe a vampire this time," said Goyle, shrugging.

"Or a crocodile!" cried Crabbe.

Blaise frowned at Draco.

"What you grinning about?" he wondered.

Draco looked round at them.

"What? Oh nothing."

But Draco's smile did not falter as he helped the rest of his friends pull down their trunks. _Sirius Black_ had to be about the coolest person Draco had ever met, and he could not wait to talk to him again.

"See you in September!" Crabbe called as he left his friends to go and find his parents.

"Bye guys," said Goyle, leaving to do the same.

"I don't see my parents anywhere," said Blaise, looking over the heads of students.

"Yeah me neither," Draco mumbled, his eyes finally landing on the bushy-haired girl on the other side of the platform.

"Guess it's just us three for now," he heard Avery say.

Hermione was standing with a group of ginger people accompanied by Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom. The group were all laughing together about something and some of them were hugging each other goodbye. Despite the amazing end to quite an eventful year, Draco felt a small weight in the pit of his stomach as he watched his Hermione laughing with those foreigners. It was official—she had surrendered to their side…to their group…to their part of the wizarding world. And even though Draco knew that he was not exactly subjected to the opposite side, and even though he knew that, now that he and Sirius were talking, things would be better from now on, he felt saddened by the thought that he and Hermione belonged in what felt like two completely different worlds…

But still, a voice in his head told him that everything was going to be just fine. Sirius was going to become a prominent member of his life. He was no longer completely alone and hopeless. For now, at least, it looked like the future was definitely bright.

* * *

 **Thanks very much and please review!**

 **In the meantime, I'd love to hear what you guys think about who will be the dark arts teacher in year 3. I _can_ tell you that it won't be a character who's had the position in canon **


	20. The Prisoner of Azkaban

**Author's Note : ****I'm baaaaack! And this year in Harry's and Draco's lives is going to be really something! This opening chapter includes the summer before third year begins. I have lots of great things planned and this year, some characters will learn exactly why Draco despises the Potters. You will also learn what happened to one of the Horcruxes that were destroyed long ago, and some more old characters will have greater roles this year. Hope you enjoy!**

 **Also, my schedule is going to be fairly busy from now on and between this story and my other fanfic, I'm afraid updates will be a bit slower. I'll try to write as quickly as possible! I've already begun the next chapter but it's not far along yet. Love you all for your patience and kind reviews!**

 **Disclaimer : Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks**

* * *

CHAPTER 20: THE PRISONER OF AZKABAN

* * *

 _Harry_

* * *

 _"Earlier this past July, we received confirmation that notorious, mass murderer Peter Pettigrew has escaped from Azkaban Prison. The Minister of Magic was unfortunately unavailable for comment but has already taken drastic measures to ensure civilians' safety, letting loose the hundreds of Azkaban guards to protect civilians in public places like Diagon Alley, the Ministry, and various wizarding schools as well, including Hogwarts which once was the home of the escapee._

 _Pettigrew is most known for his crimes committed on Halloween night, 1981. A former member of Dumbledore's wing, Pettigrew moved to the Dark Lord's side just before the war ended, was responsible for turning in James and Lily Potter's hiding place. We all know the story of course and fortunately, the events of the night were far from tragic, as I'm sure we all remember, but we are very grateful to this very day that we never had to think about it._

 _Pettigrew was also responsible for the murders of 12 random muggles on a street, committed that very same night. He was captured just a week later and locked up in Azkaban with fellow followers of the Dark Lord, namely the Lestranges and Barty Crouch Junior. However on July 2nd, we received confirmation that he has in fact escaped, though no one is quite sure how he'd managed it. And so, witches and wizards everywhere are strongly encouraged to keep an eye out for Pettigrew and to alert authorities if they find anything out of the ordinary. I'm afraid it's quite possible that if he is not caught soon enough, this could all end catastrophically."_

"You're still listening to that?" said Harry, who jumped down the last step and moved into the room where his parents, Remus and Sirius were gathered around an old radio on the table.

At the sight of him, Lily quickly turned off the radio and stood up straight.

"Hi honey," she said, brightly. "You ready to go?"

"Why are you guys always listening to this?" Harry asked, ignoring her question.

His parents exchanged a look.

"We need to be alert about what's going on in both the wizarding world and the muggle world," his father told him.

"Yeah but you guys are always listening to this stuff and reading about it and talking to people about it," Harry pointed out. When no one said anything, he added, "I mean, it's just something I've noticed this summer."

Lily glanced at her watch again.

"Do you have your booklist with you?"

Harry checked his pockets and then shook his head.

"Go run up and get it," his mother told him.

He hesitated before leaving the room, but did not end up going all the way upstairs. Instead, he stopped on the fifth step and crouched down, trying hard to listen.

"He's right, though," he heard his mother say. "We do have to stop doing this in front of him or he'll start suspecting us."

"It's only a matter of time before he finds out, you know," said Remus. "You heard the radio announcement—and it'll be all over the papers too. Of course you two will be dragged down. And so will we."

"I know," said Lily, quietly.

"He should hear it from us," Remus added.

"Lils," said Sirius, "But don't you think the kid should know that this scumbag was once—"

"Stop," said Lily and James together.

"What?" said Sirius. "Harry's upstairs."

"You obviously don't remember teenagers anymore, do you, Padfoot?" said Remus.

Harry scowled. They were onto him.

He ran on upstairs and dived into his trunk to fetch his Hogwarts list. Hedwig, he noticed, was not back yet from her trip to Ron.

"Mum, you didn't sign my Hogsmeade form yet," Harry told her when he came back down.

"You have a pen?" she said, taking the form from him.

Harry handed her the pen and his eyes landed on Sirius, who was looking rather grim-faced.

"Is everything okay?" Harry wondered.

The four adults had been acting this strange all summer, always having these whispered conversations whenever Harry left the room. And when he had the urge to eavesdrop, it was like they almost always knew he was listening and refused to reveal anything. But he definitely knew some of what was happening. For instance, his father had slipped one night and mentioned the name Wormtail was linked to Peter Pettigrew. And Harry remembered a thing or two about a Wormtail character who was with his parents when they were at school. So, naturally, he'd figured out that Peter Pettigrew was a friend of theirs and had betrayed them all those years ago and was locked up for it. But admittedly, it was driving Harry mad that his parents weren't telling him this fact. He so wanted to question them about it already.

Sirius looked up at him.

"What? Yeah, everything's fine. D'you know, I'm gonna come with you to Diagon Alley."

"Yeah, we'll all go," James added.

Harry raised his eyebrows and Remus nodded.

"Why are we all going?" Harry wondered as they approached the fireplace together and James fetched the floo powder from one of the nearby cupboards.

"Oh why not?" said Lily. "It'll be a nice little family gathering."

"Is Neville coming?"

"No, Augusta already telephoned us this morning."

"Apparently she took him to the alley yesterday," James added.

Harry sighed and walked into the emerald green flames that were now crackling in the fireplace.

 _"Diagon Alley_."

He waited just outside Gringotts Bank until his parents, Remus and Sirius arrived. Then, Harry and Remus stayed behind on the front steps while the others went inside.

"It's a good day today, isn't it?" Remus said, sighing happily. "Nice weather."

"Yeah," Harry mumbled. "Very nice. Hey so did you all know Peter Pettigrew or something? Is that why you're always watching the news and reading about it all?"

Remus glanced around at the posters hanging all over the alley with Pettigrew's face on them and then sighed.

"It's a really long story, Harry," he said. "I'd…much rather not talk about it now."

Harry sighed but nonetheless accepted "no" as an answer. He watched Remus for a long time until Remus sighed and looked at him questionably.

"How have _you_ been, Moony?" Harry asked. "I haven't seen you much since you got back last night and…well there's a full moon coming up in about a week."

"I've been well," Remus replied. "I am sorry I haven't been around much this summer."

"No, it's totally fine, I get it," Harry said, quickly. "And I'm glad you got your own place. But are you working now?"

"No, not right now," said Remus. "But I'll be fine. I'll find work. And I know the moon is coming up but I feel pretty good right now. Let's just hope it lasts a little bit longer. So how about _you?_ Are you excited for your third year at Hogwarts? I can't believe how fast you're growing."

"Yeah, it should be great," said Harry.

"Especially with this surprise that's awaiting you," Remus teased.

"You're not going to tell me what it is, are you?" Harry asked, dully.

"Nope," Remus confirmed.

Harry sighed.

All summer, his parents, Remus and Sirius had teased him about a special surprise that was awaiting him for this next year at Hogwarts, and it was already the last week of holidays and he still hadn't guessed what it was. His patience was running out.

James, Lily and Sirius came out of the bank shortly and together with Remus and Harry, they descended into the alleyway. They stopped after a short walk and Lily consulted the booklist again.

"Quite a load of things we've got to get," she mumbled to herself. "Alright Harry, we should first go get you a new set of robes before we do anything else. James?"

Harry's father turned to look at _Quality Quidditch Supplies_ , which was where Sirius was already headed.

"I think I'll be going over there," James informed them. "See you later."

"Alright, alright," said Lily, rolling her eyes. "Remus?"

"I'll go with you guys," he told her, smiling.

Together, they walked Harry to _Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions_. While there, Harry bumped into Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, both of whom were very interested to know which broom he was buying for this school year. But Harry clearly informed them both, while his mother and Remus were paying for his new uniform, that he had far too many brooms and didn't need another one.

Though, that new Firebolt did look like one heck of a ride. But Harry was perfectly fine with not getting it. Every time he looked at Ron, he was reminded of how fortunate he was and that he didn't need all this stuff that he had and Ron didn't.

Ron was in Egypt at the moment, enjoying a family vacation with his brothers Bill and Charlie too. Just before he'd left, Harry had given him one of his Nimbus brooms and the Sweepstakes to keep. Ron had been ecstatic for all of three minutes, before he grew almost as red as his hair and started sheepishly trying to get Harry to take them back. But Harry refused. He knew that Ron got all weird when the subject of money came up, but he wasn't about to stop giving his best friends things just because it made him uncomfortable. He knew that deep down, Ron was really excited about these things that Harry gave him.

Leaving the shop, Harry followed his mother and Remus to _Flourish & Blotts_, but not before he got a glimpse of his father and Sirius at _Quality Quidditch Supplies._ They were examining a broom cleaning kit with such excitement that Harry thought they were 13 years old again. He shook his head and laughed as he moved away from the shop window and ran to keep up with Lily and Remus.

Lockhart was of course still very big in the industry and his books were plastered all over the front window, but Lily walked right by them and went to meet with the shopkeeper. Harry and Remus exchanged a look but neither of them said anything. After Lockhart had given that lecture last year, Harry had tried to convince his mother that the man was a git but she refused to believe it until Remus actually confirmed it, enchanting them all with the tale of how Lockhart entertained them in the staff room after the lecture was over with. Lily had been furious to find out that her idol was just a gold-digging coward, and did not mention his name even once that whole summer.

After they'd gotten all the books from _Flourish & Blotts_, they met up with James and Sirius to get ice cream. The grownups delved into a talk about something at the ministry, while Harry greeted his passing classmates and chatted quietly with some of his fellow Quidditch teammates who he bumped into.

"Yes, I suppose it'll be very busy now, won't it?" said Remus.

"Dumbledore said that they'll be all over the castle grounds this year," said James, lowering his voice.

"Hogsmeade too?" said Sirius in alarm.

Lily nodded.

"Blimey," said Sirius. "Oh well, it doesn't matter much."

"Yes, it does!" Lily contradicted. "The _students_ , Sirius. They'll affect the students more than anyone else! I can't believe Dumbledore is going through with this. It's so dangerous!"

"He has no choice," James informed her. "The Minister is insisting."

"Well he's bloody stupid to be insisting such a crazy thing!" Lily snapped.

"Unfortunately, there is no arguing that point," said Remus, sadly.

Harry turned away from Oliver Wood (who was now bidding him farewell and returning to his parents across the street) and said, "What are you all going on about?"

"Oh it's nothing," his mother told him, smiling brightly. "Ready to go?"

"Didn't we get everything already?" James asked as they all got to their feet and each grabbed several shopping bags and packets.

"No, he still needs a new cauldron," Lily said, consulting the list again. "And then I want to stop by Amanuensis Quills. There is this new model out that I want to check."

Remus nodded supportively and James rolled his eyes, but Sirius however had his eyes on something very large that was moving inside one of the bags he was carrying.

"What the fuck is it?" he said, looking down at it.

" _Sirius!"_ Lily hissed, rounding on him.

James held his arm out to stop her from attacking Sirius, but Harry laughed. Sirius winked at him and then bowed before Lily, mouthing an apology to her. She was still red in the face as he handed the moving bag to Remus to examine. Remus pulled out the object and eyed it curiously. It looked to be a very large book which was… _breathing_.

" _The Monster Book of Monsters_ ," he read aloud.

James finally let go of Lily, who was still pointing a threatening finger at the hugely smirking Sirius, and grabbed the book from Remus.

"This for Care of Magical Creatures?" he asked Lily.

She nodded, shot Sirius another dark look, and then started off for _Potage's Cauldron Shop_ without another word to the four of them.

"What's the big deal?" Sirius said as they slowly started after her. "It's not like Harry's a little kid anymore."

"Still, you should respect the practice of proper language use," Remus told him.

Sirius shrugged and winked at Harry again, who grinned back at him. Sirius was the only one in this world who understood him. And he was right. Harry was _not_ a child anymore.

The rest of their Diagon Alley trip was certainly exhausting as Lily led them all from shop to shop and the bags kept piling up. Harry also noticed that as he passed strangers, they leaned to each other to whisper something about "the Boy Who Conquered". He smiled to himself if he overheard good things like "I can't believe it's him" or "do you reckon he'll sign an autograph for me?" And when it was things like "I still think he attacked that muggle-born last year", Harry scowled. He only hoped beyond anything else that this year, his classmates would treat him exactly as they had pre-second-year-rumours.

By the end of their Diagon Alley trip, all the boys were exhausted as they hauled the shopping things back home. Lily was the only one who was still enthused.

"Make sure you report back to me after you use this quill the first time so I know how effective it is," she told Harry for the billionth time when they finally came home.

"Okay," Harry sighed.

He took his shopping things and ran to his room to thrust them in his trunk. When he opened his door, he was pleased to find that Hedwig had returned and was holding a heavily laden letter.

"Hey there girl," he said to her, scratching her absentmindedly as he examined the letter.

He sat on his bed and ripped it open whilst kicking his shoes off. The envelope consisted of two things—a letter scribbled in Ron's messy handwriting, and a photograph. Harry smiled down at the photograph as all 9 Weasleys waved at him happily, the Egyptian pyramids accompanying them in the background.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _It's amazing here in Egypt! Bill's taken us around all the tombs and you wouldn't believe the curses those old Egyptian wizards put on them! Mum wouldn't let Ginny come in the last one. She had a fit. It's because there were all these mutant skeletons in there, of Muggles who'd broken in and grown extra heads and stuff. But it's so great here. Even Pig's been enjoying himself. I have to tell you, I couldn't believe it when Dad won the_ Daily Prophet Draw. _Seven hundred galleons! Most of it's gone on this trip, but they're going to buy me new school robes for this year, so no more of Percy's old things. By the way, he's Head Boy now. He got the letter last week._

 _We'll probably be back the day before school starts, so I suppose I'll just see you on the train on September the first._

 _Ron_

 _PS. Ginny says hi_

"Hi to you too," Harry said, smiling down at the letter.

He folded it back up and taped the photograph of the Weasleys to one of the walls in his room, then stood back to admire it. They were all so happy—he wished he could've gone with them. It had been a rather dull summer. Remus had been gone for a good portion of it and Harry had only practiced Quidditch with his father and Sirius three times the entire two months. The rest of the time, all the grownups kept telling him to go do something so they could privately chat about Peter Pettigrew. And when they weren't having whispered conversations about him behind closed doors, they were teasing Harry about that surprise that he was going to get this year at Hogwarts.

" _What_ is it?!" he kept repeating, but they only smiled at him.

He was growing extremely anxious. He just _had_ to know _right now_!

Harry sat back down on his bed and thought for a minute before he pulled out a fresh page and a pen. This last week of holidays couldn't pass any slower. He could not wait to get back to Hogwarts already.

 _Dear Ron,_

 _Egypt looks like so much fun! I wish I could've gone. Even Pig looks happy in that photograph. Thanks by the way. I've put it up in my room. Oh and tell Ginny I also say hi._

 _Well I dunno if you've been getting the Daily Prophet over there or have been keeping up with the news back home, but this Pettigrew man has really stirred up a lot of panic here. Mum and dad keep having all these hushed conversations about it with Remus and Sirius. They won't tell me anything, but I've already gathered enough for myself and I'm almost certain that they were all friends with him when they were at Hogwarts. It's not exactly tragic, though, so I still can't understand why they just won't tell me._

 _Grownups, right?_

 _Anyway, went to Diagon Alley today. Got my stuff. See you on the train on the first._

 _Harry_

He folded up the letter and handed it to Hedwig, along with a small owl treat. She nipped at his finger affectionately for a few moments before disappearing out his window again into the cool night air. Harry watched her for several seconds before he decided to go back downstairs. Remus had left but Sirius was sprawled on the couch in the living room with the television on, and James and Lily were setting the table for dinner by levitating dishes from the kitchen to the dining room. Harry grabbed the napkins and began setting them on the table too, while his ears listened intently to the muggle news that were being reported on the television.

 _We strongly urge the citizens of England to keep an eye out for this man. Our sources have told us that he is a notorious madman and cannot be trusted._

"Blimey, it's reached the muggles too?" Harry exclaimed when he saw the picture of Pettigrew appear on the television.

"Yeah, it's everywhere," said Sirius, getting up from the couch and shutting off the television.

James and Lily came into the dining room then and everyone sat in their seats and began passing the food around. For the first couple of minutes, it was completely silent as everyone piled food onto their plates. Then, Harry spoke up.

"Ron wrote," he said.

"How is his family doing in Egypt?" his mother wondered.

"They're really enjoying it. Apparently there's all these cool curses that the wizards put up there that make muggles grow extra heads or something…oh and Percy's been made Head Boy."

"Ah, that's wonderful!" said Lily. "I knew he would."

"What's the big deal? It's only Head Boy," said Sirius.

Lily ignored him.

"Do you know, Harry, I was Head Girl in _my_ last year at Hogwarts," she told him.

"Yeah, we were all so very proud," Sirius said, placing a hand on his heart and smiling at Lily warmly.

She scowled at him.

"Were you Head Boy too, dad?" Harry wondered.

Sirius let out a bark-like laugh.

"Do you want to eat outside, _dog_?" Lily told him.

But James also smiled at this.

"No, I wasn't," he said, answering Harry's question. "But Remus was."

"Yeah, your mother and Remus were the two goody-goodies of Gryffindor in our day," Sirius told Harry after he'd calmed down.

"Yeah, I can see that happening," Harry said, grinning at his mother who went a little pink in the cheeks and looked down at her plate.

"Are you interested in making Head Boy?" his father asked him.

Harry scoffed, but immediately stopped smiling when his mother looked up at him.

"You don't have to follow in your father's footsteps for _everything_ ," she told him, hotly.

Harry gave her an apologetic smile and put a large chunk of potato in his mouth so that he couldn't say anything else that would get him into trouble. He also made sure to avoid Sirius' eyes for the rest of dinner, so as to keep himself from laughing.

James began discussing some ministry matters again, and Harry tuned out of the conversation until Pettigrew's name came up again and he distinctly witnessed his mother kicking his father under the table. Everyone glanced at Harry nervously and then quickly went silent. Harry put down his knife and fork and leaned back in his chair curiously.

"So what's this big surprise that I'll be getting this year?" he asked.

All three adults exchanged secret smiles but none of them answered.

"Oh come on!" Harry said, leaning forwards again. "Come on, what is it? At least give me a clue!"

"You'll know soon," Sirius promised.

Harry let the adults ramble about useless things for the rest of dinner without interrupting, and then went up to his room after to pack some more. He could hardly wait for the first of September to arrive already. He wanted to see Ron and Neville and Ginny too. He even missed Oliver Wood, however annoying he was, though it was good seeing him at Diagon Alley that day. But more importantly, Harry wanted to find out what this surprise was already.

There was a knock at the door.

"Yeah!" Harry called out.

The door creaked open and Sirius tiptoed in, holding something behind his back. He shut the door ever so lightly and then crept across the room and sat on Harry's bed beside him.

"What's up?" Harry whispered.

Sirius revealed a chunk of parchment and placed it in Harry's lap. Harry picked it up and examined it, folding and unfolding it all throughout until he came to the conclusion that it was just a blank bit of old parchment. He looked up at Sirius questionably, but Sirius had pulled out his wand and was now pointing it at the center of the parchment.

" _I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_ ," he whispered.

At once, thin ink lines began to spread like a spider's web from the point that Sirius' wand had touched. They joined each other and crisscrossed and fanned into every corner of the parchment. Then, words began to blossom across the top—great, curly green words, that proclaimed:

 _Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs_

 _Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers_

 _Are proud to present_

 _THE MARAUDER'S MAP_

"What the…?" said Harry, but Sirius shushed him instantly and hissed, "Look at it carefully," so Harry looked. And once he did, he finally understood. It was a map showing every detail of the Hogwarts castle and grounds. But the truly remarkable thing were the three tiny ink dots moving around in one corner of it, each labeled with a name in miniscule writing. Astounded, Harry bent over it to read more carefully—Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, and Argus Filch. Harry then narrowed his eyes at the rest of the parchment and saw other similar little dots labeled Peeves or Nearly Headless Nick or Moaning Myrtle. And as Harry's eyes traveled up and down the familiar corridors, he noticed something else. This map showed a set of passages he had never entered…and many of them seemed to lead to Hogsmeade Village.

Harry looked up at Sirius, who was grinning at him now.

" _How_?" he breathed.

"We had to do _something_ while we were at school, didn't we?" he said, in a hushed whisper. "Otherwise we'd have died of boredom, waiting for the next full moon."

"But _how_?" Harry repeated.

Sirius only grinned at him, and then pointed at a particular spot on the map. "This here is my favourite sneakaway to Hogsmeade—the one-eyed witch passageway. It'll lead you straight to Honeydukes Cellar."

"This is brilliant!" Harry exclaimed, followed by another hush from Sirius. He lowered his voice. "Now I don't have to wait for Hogsmeade weekends. I can just visit you whenever I want!"

Sirius grinned at him even more broadly.

"How did you never get caught for this?" Harry wondered as he unfolded another edge of the map and narrowed his eyes at the little cubicle labeled _First Potions Office._

"Oh we did," said Sirius. "Filch confiscated it from us in our fifth or sixth year I think. I can't remember."

"How did you get it back?"

"Recently," Sirius explained. "I went to see Dumbledore the other day and then I took a little detour to Filch's office and the map just happened to be there in his drawer which also just happened to be wide open."

Harry grinned at him again, and then frowned.

"Why were you at Hogwarts?"

"Oh, that," said Sirius, glancing at the door again in case someone was coming up. "I had to get Dumbledore's signature for this month's rent. He's my guarantor at Hogsmeade. Listen, Harry—if your mum finds out I gave this to you—"

"She won't," Harry promised. "And neither will dad."

"Nah that's alright, your dad can know. But your mum—"

"I'll be careful," Harry said again. "How do you hide this thing anyway?"

"Oh it's simple—just point your wand tip at the center of the parchment and say _Mischief Managed_."

"And 'managed', it will be," Harry mumbled, grinning down at the parchment which suddenly went blank again. He looked up at Sirius. "Thanks, Padfoot."

"My pleasure," Sirius said, patting him on the back.

Once he left, Harry lay back on his pillow and sighed, the map stored safely in his school trunk. So _this_ was how his father, Sirius and Remus had managed to get away with all those pranks they always bragged about.

* * *

 _Draco_

* * *

"Can you do it more quickly? The food's already cold," Narcissa told Draco as he carried the heavily laden plate to the dinner table.

"Yes mother," he muttered, placing the hot plate at the center of the table and taking a seat across from his father, who was reading _The Daily Prophet_.

"Put it away, it's dinnertime," Narcissa told him, also taking a seat.

Lucius did not do so right away, but waited a few more minutes before he lazily thrust the newspaper into the empty chair next to him and dove into his dinner. Draco had a strong feeling that he'd done this only to annoy Narcissa.

"Nothing new," he grumbled after a short silence.

"I wasn't expecting anything new," Narcissa sighed. "It's been 12 years. I just…don't understand why _now_."

"We know why now," Lucius told her, his eyes on his dinner plate. "The question is, how the hell did he manage it?"

"Can you please watch the language in front of the kid?" Narcissa told him.

Draco looked up at her. She looked extremely exhausted so he decided against telling her off for calling him a child. His father seemed to think along the same lines because he didn't say anything either, but merely continued as though she hadn't spoken.

"From what I remember, Pettigrew was an idiot. I can't see how he escaped the prison that is known for its high security."

"Unless he had help," Narcissa suggested, quietly.

Lucius said nothing.

This had been going on all summer. Just a few days after Draco had come home, the news of Peter Pettigrew's escape from Azkaban had broken out all over the wizarding community, and soon, it was all his parents could talk about. Draco knew better than to contribute to these conversations or to ask questions, so he simply took advantage of what he was hearing and made mental notes which he would then report to Hermione during their weekly meetings in the meadow. Hermione, being muggle-born, had little information to offer back, other than things she overheard in the muggle television. According to her, the muggle Prime Minister had also been alerted about the escape and was warning England's citizens to take caution.

"He couldn't have gotten out on his own," Narcissa continued. "He had to have had some help. It's like you said, he was really stupid. And if it's so easy to escape from Azkaban, then how come Bella or any of the others haven't been able to do so in all this time?"

"I'm not arguing with you, calm down," Lucius muttered. He took a few more bites of his dinner and then pushed his plate away and stood up. "I'm going out."

"When will you be back?" Narcissa called after him as he went to get his coat.

"Later," he told her.

He left without another word, and a long silence drew out.

"It's not what you think," Narcissa told Draco finally.

He looked up at her.

"What do I think?" he said.

"It doesn't matter but whatever you think, it's wrong," she told him. "He's gone down to the Leaky Cauldron to see if he can find out anything from someone who might know more about Pettigrew."

"Why do you guys care so much though?" Draco wondered, but Narcissa simply shook her head and motioned for him to help her clear the table.

And this was exactly the way it happened almost every single night. On the last week of the holiday break, Draco finished up that entire week's chores so that he could meet up with Hermione some more. He came to the meadow Tuesday afternoon to find her already there with a picnic basket and a blanket. Draco began eating right away while Hermione checked their booklists and made some notes here and there.

"You're sure you don't need new robes?" she asked him again as he finished a second turkey leg.

"Haven't got the money for it, have I?" he said through a mouthful.

Hermione pursed her lips but said nothing.

"Alright," she said after about five minutes of silence. "I'll get everything on your list tomorrow and I'll bring it here Thursday."

"Thanks," said Draco. "And hey listen, I'll pay you back, I promise."

His mother seemed to have forgotten about back-to-school shopping completely and hadn't even mentioned Diagon Alley at all, so Draco hadn't mentioned it to her, and had resorted to asking Hermione to do him a favour instead.

"No, don't worry about it!" she told him again. "Really, it's fine."

"No, it's not," Draco contradicted. "I'll get the money from Sev as soon as we're back at Hogwarts."

"You don't—"

"I'll do it, Hermione."

"But I don't want you to bother Snape with it!"

"Hermione," Draco snapped. "We're not having this argument again, okay? I said I'll do it. Drop it."

Hermione fell silent and looked down at her list again.

"Have you thought more about it?" Draco asked her after a moment's silence.

She nodded, not needing clarification for she knew exactly what he was talking about (it had been all that they'd talked about that summer), and then took a deep breath.

"I think your parents just have a huge history with him," she said. "Either that or they're concerned for your aunt and want to know how he managed to escape and perhaps how they could help her to escape too…which frankly, I find, is a very bad idea."

"Oh and you don't think I know that?" Draco muttered.

Hermione scowled at him.

"What?" he said, irritably, after she didn't say anything.

"I wish you'd stop acting this way," she muttered. "You may be a teenager now but you're still my best friend, last time I checked."

Draco sighed.

"It has nothing to do with being a teenager—and by the way, you're almost one yourself."

Hermione grinned.

"You remembered!"

" _Of course_ I remembered," he said, rolling his eyes at her.

They grinned at each other and then lay back down on the grass and looked up at the clear blue sky.

"So what is it about?" Hermione asked, "If it's not the whole being a teenager thing."

"It's about this summer being just too bloody annoying for my liking," Draco said, simply. "I can't _stand_ my parents."

Hermione didn't say anything, which truth be told, Draco had expected. It wasn't like she knew what it was like. Her family resembled the spitting image of perfect. Draco found himself sometimes resenting Hermione for it, though he'd never dream of saying this to her face. He knew that it was his own flaw and that he had to learn to get over it on his own. After all, it wasn't her fault that her family was so great while his was so messed up. It wasn't his fault either. And these days, he was having a hard time finding someone to blame, because it looked like it wasn't his parents' fault either.

"What do you think your dad does at the Leaky Cauldron?" Hermione asked after another long moment's silence.

"I doubt it's actually the Leaky Cauldron that he goes to," Draco blurted out, and when Hermione turned her head in the grass to look at him with raised eyebrows, he hastily added, "Never mind. So, any ideas on who's going to be dark arts teacher?"

"Some," said Hermione. "I, for one, think it would be wonderful if—"

"Don't say it," Draco interrupted.

"But—"

"Please don't."

"But he's _wonderful!_ "

" _He's a git_ ," Draco hissed. "Everyone says so—even Dumbledore."

"He did not say those words!" Hermione said, gasping. "Lockhart is a brilliant man and he is seriously misunderstood for it, by many ignorant people like yourself."

"Whatever."

Hermione fell silent again. It really had been this way the entire summer.

"Well, there is another person that I've strongly considered to be the new teacher," Hermione said again.

Draco raised his eyebrows at her and she bit her lip.

"Come off it," he told her, lying back down on the grass.

"It's a possibility!" she said, defending herself.

"Rubbish," said Draco. "Sirius is not going to take up some stupid teaching post at Hogwarts. He's way too cool for that."

Hermione was silent for a good minute and so, driven by curiosity, Draco turned his head to look at her, and found her smiling at him.

"What?" he said. "What are you smiling about?"

"You," she said, simply. "Your face."

"What about it?"

"It lights up every time you talk about him."

"Oh shut up."

Hermione giggled, and Draco found himself unable to suppress a grin.

Truth be told, the only thing that had kept this summer from being a complete disaster was the reminder that it had all been real and that Draco had a Sirius Black somewhere out there. Sirius was by far the coolest person Draco had ever met, even surpassing Sev, who could use a good laugh or two every once in a while. Draco had never met someone more ridiculous in every good way possible. Sirius was just so full of life and sarcasm and joy, which made Draco slightly envious. If only he had had this person around when he was growing up…he might not have turned out to be so bitter and thus annoying Hermione like so.

It rained for the next two days, so unfortunately, Draco had to wait until Friday to go back to the meadow. Thankfully, Hermione was already there waiting for him by the time he arrived. She had all his school things laid out in front of her on the blanket, along with a large mince pie that she'd brought. Draco didn't know what to do first—hug her, check out the school things, or eat the pie. He first went for the hug, and then ditched the school things and went straight for the pie. School could always wait.

Draco was about halfway through his first slice when a large, orange, furry, and ugly thing hopped into Hermione's lap. She scratched it behind the ears as its large yellow eyes blinked at Draco, whose fork had frozen midway to his mouth at the sight of the ugly beast.

"What in the bloody hell is that?" Draco asked Hermione, his eyes on the cat in her lap.

"Meet Crookshanks!" she said, happily. "He was an early birthday present from mum and dad. Isn't he _so cute_?!"

"Divine," Draco said, his eyes still on the vicious beast. "Hermione, whatever happened to brooms or authentic quills or…books! You like books, why didn't you get yourself a new book?! I'm sure Lockhart has some new edition of something out this summer…"

"I've already bought it," Hermione said, dismissively. "And anyway, I have all those things, but I've never had a pet before. And when I saw him at the shop, he just totally completely stood out to me. He's so adorable, don't you think so, Draco?"

"Oh yeah," said Draco, sarcastically, finally putting down his fork and deciding that he was finished, "You know, now that you mention it, 'adorable' was the first thing that popped into my mind when beastie here hopped into your lap."

" _Crookshanks_ ," Hermione told him, ignoring the sarcasm. "And I happen to think that he is the best thing I've ever gotten at Diagon Alley, thank you very much."

"Wow," said Draco. "He even surpasses a wand…can't believe you just said that."

"But he's so adowable!" Hermione exclaimed, hugging the ugly little thing closer to herself. "I could just eat him up!"

"I just might," Draco muttered under his breath, while still watching the cat with disgust.

"So did you bump into anyone while you were at Diagon Alley?" Draco asked after several minutes of enduring Hermione making baby faces at the little beast.

"What?—oh yeah, just a few people…Gryffindors, mostly. You wouldn't know them."

"Any of my friends show up?"

"No, I haven't seen them."

"Shame."

"Haven't they written to you at all this summer?"

"Of course they have, why wouldn't they?" Draco shot at her.

Hermione, looking startled, let Crookshanks off of her lap and moved to sit closer to Draco.

"Will you calm yourself down?" she said. "I didn't mean anything by it!"

"I'm calm," Draco muttered.

"Oh yeah, it totally shows," Hermione said, sarcastically.

Draco ignored her.

If he was being completely honest with himself, Blaise and Avery had only written twice each, and Crabbe and Goyle once just after school ended. This month, Draco hadn't received a single letter, and he was very close to asking his mother whether she had something to do with this. But she wouldn't stoop that low so as to intercept his mail…would she?

"If you're thinking of blaming your parents again for your misfortunes, think again," Hermione told him, as though she'd just read his mind.

"Forget it," Draco told her, his eyes landing on the fat orange cat in front of him again. "So how long will it be staying with us?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, when will you be getting rid of it?"

"Never!" Hermione gasped. "He's my baby! I wouldn't get rid of him for anything! And it's _him_ , not _it_!"

Draco rolled his eyes. Why couldn't Hermione just get a small spider and be decent like him? Although, that spider in his room had been gone for a long time now. Draco strongly suspected that it was dead. Didn't everything have to die eventually?

"If this is how you're going to be as a teenager, I'm not sure I like you very much anymore," Hermione told him eventually.

Draco raised his eyebrows at her.

"I didn't know you liked me at all."

Hermione's cheeks flushed and she said, "You know what I mean."

Draco let out a small laugh and then sighed.

"If you don't like it…"

"I know, I know," Hermione snapped. "I just wish you'd at least cut _me_ some slack. I am your _best friend_ , after all—we're not exactly _strangers_. We're supposed to be—"

"I get it, Hermione," Draco interrupted. She looked at him with concern and he heaved a great sigh. "Okay, I'm s…s…sorry, okay? There, I've said it. Now leave me alone."

"I don't get it!" Hermione cried, throwing her hands in the air and completely ignoring his request. "You were with me all summer, when did you manage to find the time to make this bitter transformation?"

"It always gets the worst at night," Draco said, suggestively.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and he let out one of his famous smirks which calmed her down a bit.

"Okay, I'm gonna go," Draco said about an hour later.

He got to his feet and Hermione helped him pack up all his school things. Just before he could say goodbye to her however, he frowned at something in his hands.

"Hermione," he said, pulling it away from the pile and holding it up for her to see. She blushed instantly. "What is this?"

" _Magical Me_ ," she said in a small voice.

Draco stared at her with such incredulity that he'd never known before.

" _That's_ on the book list?!"

"What?—no, it's not," said Hermione, quickly. "I got it for you because it's _really_ good and I think you should have a read."

"But I—"

"No need to thank me, and no need to pay me back either—I'm not going to accept any money from you. Now go before your mother gets mad at you for being late. Go on."

Draco shook his head at her but departed nonetheless. There was so much that he had to teach her, and she was making it really difficult for him to prevent her from permanently becoming a social outcast.

The next time he met up with her was on Sunday night, just the day before September the first. Hermione had not brought food this time because it was significantly late. She was wearing her pajamas and a curious but worried expression on her face as Draco walked across the meadow and threw himself into her arms.

"What's happened? I got your urgent message and quite frankly had a panic attack as I hurried over here!"

Draco let go of her and sat down on the grass, wiping his face on his sleeve. Worried, Hermione sat next to him with her hand still on his shoulder. She waited.

"I g-got into a f-fight with my mother," he whispered.

He was feeling really thankful now that Blaise or Avery or none of the others could see him like this. He had no problem showing this side of him to Hermione. After all, it was only Hermione. And he knew that he would die before she ever mentioned it to anyone. She was not an untrustworthy person, that's for sure.

"What about?" she asked.

"Sirius," he told her.

"Sirius showed up at your house?!"

"What?—no!" Draco turned around to face her and she saw the tears still shining on his face. "She got a letter from Sev, explaining everything that happened at the end of last year. After she was done yelling at me for not telling her about it myself, she interrogated me about Sirius and what he told me because apparently Sev saw us leaving the castle that day to go for a walk."

"And?"

"And she completely lost it!" he cried. "She got all mad at me and said that I had no business going anywhere with that traitor and that I should stay away from him and how dare I threaten everything that she and father have done for me and there'd better be no more secrets or they'll disown me just like her cousins disowned him all those years ago."

"Oh Draco," Hermione whispered, clutching his shoulder even tighter.

"Hermione, you don't get it," he said, suddenly. "I'm not upset because of Sirius. He'll be fine—he's an adult and a clever one at that, so no one can tell him what to do. But it's _you_ that's the problem. Mother said that she knows I'm hiding something else and when she finds out she is going to kill me."

"Finds out what? That you and I are friends?"

" _Exactly_."

"But Draco, surely she wouldn't—?"

"YES SHE WOULD!" he bellowed, startling Hermione as her arm fell from his shoulder. She stared at him, wide-eyed. "Hermione, don't you see? I'm toast! _You're_ toast! My mother is many things but she is _not_ forgiving. She knows how to hold a grudge. Just look at her and Sirius! All these years have passed and she still refuses to acknowledge him as a member of the family, even though he _is_ a Black. There is no denying it!"

"What are you going to do?" Hermione asked in a small voice.

"Stop meeting you here in the meadow on summers, that's for sure," Draco hissed.

Hermione stared at him with a slightly hurt expression and then nodded.

"Look, we'll still meet up at Hogwarts all the time, of course we will, but I can't keep doing this. It's too risky. I've never even noticed how risky it was what we were doing until she made that threat!"

"Draco, it's fine. You don't have to protect me. I can take care of my—"

" _NO_."

"But I don't want you to fight with your family because of us!"

" _I_ choose what I'll fight with my family for, thank you very much," he told her, boldly, and then he got to his feet and cursed out loud.

Hermione winced at the sound of it but also got to her feet.

"Are we still riding to King's Cross together tomorrow?" she asked.

"I don't think so. Look, I've got to go but maybe we'll meet up on the train, I dunno. Just…just be careful, okay? Don't go getting yourself attacked again. And again. And almost again."

"Relax," said Hermione. "This year is going to be nothing like last year. I know who to trust now."

"I hope that's true," Draco told her pointedly, and with a hurried hug, he left her there and hurried back to his side of the hill.

He marched right by his mother who was sitting in the kitchen and hurried on upstairs to his room where his school trunk was already packed and ready to go. He opened it up and dug inside until he retrieved a crumpled letter. He smoothed it out on his bed and reread it for probably the hundredth time that summer.

 _Draco,_

 _I didn't want to risk you getting into trouble with your parents which is why I decided to send this letter through Hermione. Harry tells me that she is your best friend so I figured it was my best bet._

 _I hope you're doing alright and that your summer is relaxing at least. I've just been keeping busy, keeping to myself. Normally, I stay over at the Potters for the summer, instead of Hogsmeade. So in a way, it's also_ my _summer break._

 _I don't know if you've been following the news regarding Peter Pettigrew's escape from Azkaban. That's some beginning to a summer, isn't it? When I see you, I'll tell you a story about how I came so close to being in his spot today. It's not pretty._

 _Hope you are doing well and see you soon hopefully,_

 _Sirius_

Draco crumpled up the letter again and hid it safely in his trunk under his old Hogwarts robes. He then locked it back up and moved to sit on the window ledge again, his eyes on the full moon in the dark sky. He found himself thinking a lot back to that last month of school and to everything that had happened in the Shrieking Shack…Lupin had looked so miserable in his wolf state and Hermione had been too filled with compassion to care that she was in danger.

And then, Draco remembered that detention that he'd served with Lupin earlier that year. He remembered all the nice things that Lupin had had to say about Sirius and how understanding he'd been and how he'd made sure that Draco knew that it was _his_ choice, _Draco's_ , whether he was going to see Sirius or not. _His_ choice, and no one else's. That was exactly what Lupin had said. So if Narcissa wanted to forbid Draco from seeing his cousin, there was nothing she could do about it. He was not a child anymore and he could choose for himself. Lupin had said so.

And then, Draco started kicking himself for being so stupid. _Lupin_. Who on earth was Lupin to tell him this?

 _He is one of Sirius' best mates_ , a voice inside his head told him.

 _Yeah, and Potter's too_ , he told it.

Sighing, he rested his head against the slightly chilly window and closed his eyes. Hogwarts could not get here sooner. Perhaps he wouldn't have to come back here next summer. He certainly wasn't going to come home for the holidays but maybe he'd also be able to stay away for the summer…maybe go and stay with Sirius. Sirius had said in his letter that he stayed with the Potters every summer.

Him, Draco, Potter, and the Weasleys would all be one big happy family, all of them marching around a heavily laden dinner table and cheering about how mudbloods were the greatest in the world and Purebloods were a joke. The funny part, Draco thought as he slowly began to drift off to sleep, was that even if this dream was a reality, it would still be a much better summer than what he had endured.

* * *

 **I'm narrowing down the choice of dark arts teachers to three... Lily? James? or Sirius? :P**

 **Hint: you will find out in the next chapter!**


	21. Year 3: The First Dementor

**AN : Congratulations to those of you who guessed correctly. Enjoy this chapter!**

 **Disclaimer : Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling, thanks**

* * *

CHAPTER 21: YEAR 3—THE FIRST DEMENTOR

* * *

 _Harry_

* * *

"So it's definitely safe to say that your summer was a whole lot better than ours," Neville concluded after Ron had finished retelling the entirety of his trip to Egypt.

"Basically," he said, casually sitting back on his chair.

Harry grinned at him.

It was September the first and the gang was finally back together in their compartment, zooming further and further from King's Cross and closer and closer to Hogwarts at last. Harry and Neville had decided to sit back and allow Ron to have this chance. He and Ginny—though she too, mostly kept quiet and let him enjoy this—delved immediately into a detailed account of those entire two months, from the tourist sites to the food at the hotel to the legends _about_ the tourist sites. Harry very much enjoyed seeing how excited Ron was about telling it, so he didn't want to ruin it with some more boring facts about this criminal that they were all supposed to be on the lookout for. All that could wait until later.

"So what did you guys do these two months?" Ron asked.

Harry and Neville exchanged a look and then shrugged.

"Just keeping to ourselves, really," Harry concluded for the both of them.

"Have you heard from Professor Lupin?" Ginny asked him in a small voice.

He smiled at her.

"He got back earlier last week. He says he's got his own place but he's still looking for a job."

"It's a full moon tonight," Ginny whispered.

"He'll be okay," Harry assured her, even though he himself did not quite believe it to be true.

His eyes however shifted from Ginny to the strange little creature sitting next to her. A rather small girl, the blonde continued to stare out the window sleepily (where the rain was pounding hard against the train), as though completely immune to these conversations. Her fingers were playing inattentively with the necklace around her neck, which seemed to be made of bottle caps. Her nails alternated colours and there was an ugly headband over her head. Luckily, she did not seem to notice Harry staring at her with a sort of disgusted look on his face. _Unluckily_ however, Ginny had.

"Luna, you've met Harry before, haven't you?" she said, loudly and clearly so that the whole compartment now turned to face her.

Luna Lovegood looked away from the window and her eyes fell on Harry.

"Yes," she said, softly.

"No you haven't," Harry contradicted, in what he soon came to realise was an unnecessarily rude tone. He cleared it up with a cough and then gingerly added, "I mean, I'm sure we've bumped into each other in the halls."

Luna however, simply looked back out the window again, as though there hadn't been an interruption. _Why_ was she sitting with them, other than the fact that Ginny had absolutely insisted, Harry had no idea. But the fact was, that she was there, and while she was there, he couldn't exactly discuss everything that he'd wanted to discuss—mainly the Marauder's Map—with his friends. It would just have to wait until they were safely in their dormitories, which meant that Ginny would have to wait for a detailed account until the next time the common room emptied early enough.

Ron quickly changed the topic of conversation to Quidditch and began discussing tactics with Harry and brainstorming who they thought would take up one of the open chaser positions this year, since the last chaser had graduated Hogwarts in June. Neville had obviously kept up the Remus character in him over the summer and instantly got out a book to read, while beside him, Luna continued to stare out the window. Ginny listened to Harry's and Ron's talks about Quidditch for a while, before she began to drift off to sleep, her head slowly landing on Harry's shoulder. And every little while, thunder rumbled in the background and lights flickered a few times. It was also considerably darker outside. Harry was not sure they'd ever had a wetter journey to Hogwarts.

At about half past noon (the rain having not stopped even a bit), the lady with the food trolley began to make her rounds, at which point both Ginny and Luna awoke and Ron began rummaging in his bag for the money he knew was not there. Harry found it hard ignoring this, but nonetheless insisted on buying the entire compartment sweets. Ron of course objected but Harry heard none of this and proceeded with buying the sweets. Everyone except for Ron—who continued to argue—accepted the sweets and thanked Harry. Ginny then got out a deck of cards and challenged Harry to a little muggle game she'd picked up over the summer. When she won every single round, Ron started accusing her of cheating, and the bickering began.

Harry meanwhile, turned his gaze back to Luna, who was still staring out the window dreamily. Neville had also noticed this strangeness about her but simply shrugged at Harry and returned to his book, _Standard Book of Spells: Grade 5_.

"A bit early, aren't you?" Ron asked after noticing the title of the book too.

"You can never be too early to start studying," Neville stated simply. "We'll have to read this someday, why not now?"

Ron rolled his eyes.

"You sound like Hermione—better stop hanging out with her so much or there'll be _two_ annoying know-it-alls in Gryffindor."

"I thought you and Hermione had called a truce," Ginny pointed out.

"Unofficially," Harry told her.

"Oh like you and Draco Malfoy unofficially called a truce at the end of term," Ron reminded him.

Harry shrugged.

He hadn't thought of Draco Malfoy at all that summer and had completely forgotten about the so-called truce that they had made on the last day of term. But he was sure that if Pettigrew hadn't been all the rage that summer, Harry would have probably thought about it once or twice. He supposed that a madman going out on the loose would do the trick in distracting a person.

Thinking along the same lines, Ron instructed Ginny to take Luna elsewhere—"Go see your own classmates!"—so that the boys could discuss what they really wanted to discuss. Ginny, who looked absolutely appalled by this demand, dragged Luna out of the compartment and stalked off. As soon as the door was clicked shut again, Neville put his book away and sat up with Ron, both of their eyes on Harry. But Harry knew that there was one thing he had to take care of before they could even move the subject to Pettigrew.

"Are we having a repeat of last year?" he told Ron.

Ron frowned.

"I'm talking about _Ginny_ ," Harry clarified. "You kicked her out of the compartment last year too, if I remember correctly."

"Oh come _on_!" Ron cried, rolling his eyes. "Look, she's only my sister, it doesn't—"

"It _does_ matter!" Harry contradicted. "She's your _sister_. Do you have any idea what I would give to have brothers or sisters?"

"It _is_ rather dull being an only child," Neville pointed out in a small voice.

Ron rolled his eyes again.

"Okay, forget Ginny for a minute, before she and her weird friend come back," he said. "Let's talk _Pettigrew_."

"There's nothing to talk about," said Harry, dismissively, and he pulled the Marauder's Map out of his pocket. "Listen, I want to show you guys something that I got from Sirius."

"Whatever it is, it can wait!" cried Ron.

 _No, it really can't_ , Harry wanted to say, but he only sighed and pocketed the map again.

"Look, what do you want to know? I've already told you most of everything in my last letter."

"You haven't told _me_ ," Neville pointed out.

Harry sighed.

"Okay so basically, my dad let it slip one night that the name 'Wormtail' was strongly linked to Pettigrew, and I remembered all those stories he and Sirius and Remus told us about their adventures at Hogwarts and I put two and two together and basically realised that—"

"They knew Pettigrew when they were at Hogwarts," Neville concluded, nodding. "It makes sense."

"They didn't just know each other," Harry said, shaking his head. "They were _best friends_."

"Well yeah," said Neville. "That's what I meant."

"Blimey," said Ron. "And he betrayed them, right? That's what they're saying on the news."

Harry nodded. He wasn't sure exactly how he felt about this yet, seeing as how his family was refusing to talk to him about it at the moment. This was really starting to bother him.

"So why do you reckon he's escaped?" Ron wondered.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" said Neville before Harry could answer. Harry frowned at him. "Don't you guys know anything about Azkaban?" The boys shook their heads. "It is an extremely high-security prison. Its guards are said to be so beyond dangerous that there isn't even a word to describe them that would suffice…treacherous…deadly…and just pure _evil_." Ron shuddered. "They say that you go mad within two days of being there, because all happiness is literally drained out of you and you are left with nothing but sorrow and self-pity."

"Hang on," said Harry, as the compartment door slid open and Ginny re-entered (this time without Luna). "You say that the _guards_ do this to you?"

Neville nodded.

"But then that must mean…wait, so they're not people, are they? The guards, I mean."

Neville shook his head.

Harry frowned. Was it just him, or was what Neville describing starting to sound a lot like…

His eyes went round and his face ghostly pale.

" _Dementors_?" he whispered in a hoarse voice, remembering his father's tales.

Neville, also shuddering, nodded.

And at that very precise moment, the compartment suddenly darkened, as the train screeched and halted to an abrupt stop.

* * *

"What's going on?" cried Ron, the shadow of his hand moving visibly over the window on which the rain was thickening. "Is…is everybody still here?"

"Yeah," they answered one by one.

The windows were now a solid, shimmering gray, which gradually darkened until, it seemed, all the lanterns in the train had flickered on and then died just as quickly.

"Maybe it's the storm," said Neville into the darkness.

The train suddenly rattled, making Ginny gasp. The rain continued to hammer and the wind roared ever so loudly. Harry jumped slightly as he felt a cold hand grab him, its small fingers intertwining with his. It appeared that Ginny had moved to sit next to him and was now leaning against his shoulder.

"I-it's okay," he told her. "We must be nearly there, that's all."

"I don't think so," said Ron, leaning forward to look at the now completely black window. The words had hardly left him when the train suddenly gave another jolt. "Guys…I...I think we've broken down."

"Are we in danger?" Ginny asked in a small voice.

"Everyone, calm down," came Neville's voice out of the darkness. "I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for why we've stopped early. Maybe they're out of fuel or something. Let's just…stay put and wait for further instructions."

" _Seriously_ ," said Ron, " _Stop hanging out with Hermione_. It's for your own good, you know."

Neville ignored him.

The four sat in silence for the next couple of minutes, each of them taking turns jumping when the train rattled or the thunder roared. An intense cold swept over them all and Harry saw the window slowly freeze over from the outside.

Sitting nearest to the door, he let go of Ginny's hand and got up to look into the corridor. All along the carriage, heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments. Distant thuds and bangs told them that compartment doors had slid shut. Then, without warning, all the lights flickered back on and vanished again, so that they were all plunged into total darkness.

"What's going on?!" said Ron's voice from behind Harry.

Harry felt his way back to his seat.

"Dunno…"

There was a squeaking sound, and Harry saw the dim black outline of Ron wiping a patch clean on the window and peering out.

"There's something moving out there," he said.

"I think someone's come aboard," Harry suggested. "I heard some bangs…like…compartments opening and closing."

Ginny's hand found his again and she squeezed it hard.

And then, the worst happened. The door to Harry's left slowly slid open at its own accord. Ginny almost automatically shifted closer to the window, away from the door, and Harry followed, while across from them, Ron and Neville did the same. They waited a few seconds, and then it appeared. Cloaked completely, the dark figure towered to the ceiling as it slowly moved its way into the small compartment. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood and a slimy-looking, glistening grayish hand was protruding from the cloak. Harry's stomach contracted. It looked like something dead that had decayed in water rather than an actual human hand. But whatever it was, it was visible only for a split second. As though the creature beneath the cloak had sensed Harry's gaze, the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of its black cloak. And then the thing beneath the hood drew a long, slow, rattling breath.

The intense cold seemed to pour into Harry's very skin. It was inside his chest…it was inside his very heart…he felt his eyes roll up into his head, drowning him in the cold. There was a rushing in his ears as though of water. He was being dragged downward, the roaring growing louder…and then, from far away, he heard terrible, scorching shrieks—almost like pleading screams—that strongly resembled that of his own mother's voice. Terrified, he felt a yell escape his own lips but did not seem to be aware of it. He had completely forgotten where he was and nothing mattered anymore—nothing except finding his mother, wherever she was, and helping her against whatever was making her scream so painfully like so.

"Harry! Harry! HARRY, ANSWER ME!"

Someone was slapping his face.

"W—what?"

Harry opened his eyes; the lights had turned back on and the train was moving again. He seemed to have slid out of his seat onto the floor. He blinked several times and then felt glasses sliding back onto his face and then everything came back into focus.

"S-Sirius?" Harry muttered.

He felt very sick—a cold sweat on his face now. Sirius pulled him to his feet with one hand and pushed him down to a seat. Beside him, Ginny was in tears and Neville had his arm around her. Ron was sitting on the other side, looking utterly terrified. Sirius sat across from Harry and continued to watch him with concern. Harry looked quickly toward the door. The hooded creature had vanished.

"What happened? Where's that—that thing? A-and the screaming?"

"I-it's gone," said Ron, more nervously still. "It left."

Harry looked around the bright compartment. Ginny and Neville looked back at him, both very pale.

"But I heard screaming—"

"That was you!" Ginny said quickly.

"N-no!" Harry protested, now quite aware that he must have also contributed to some of the screaming that he'd heard. "My…"

"It's alright, just take deep breaths," Sirius told him, pulling out a water bottle and splashing it on Harry's face, making the front of his shirt even wetter than it already was.

Harry shook his head violently and wiped his face on his sleeve.

"I'm okay," he said, but Sirius was now pulling out a large chocolate bar and breaking it into cubes which he proceeded to hand out to everyone in the compartment. Harry refused the chocolate but Sirius forced it into his hand and said, "Eat" in the boldest tone of voice Harry had ever heard him use. Harry did not need telling twice, and clambered the piece of chocolate into his mouth straightaway. He sat back in his seat, resting his head.

"I'm afraid your mother was right on this one," Sirius told him, sighing.

"But what _was_ that thing?" he asked again.

"A dementor," Neville said, quietly.

Sirius nodded.

" _Dementors_?" cried Ron. " _Here?!_ "

"They'll be at Hogwarts too," Sirius informed him. "Eat."

Ron nervously threw the chocolate into his mouth and chewed on it hard. Sirius turned back to Harry and mouthed the words "You okay?" Harry nodded, his eyes turning back to the door where moments ago, that dementor creature had been.

"Dementor," he repeated out loud, feeling a fresh piece of chocolate being forced into his hand.

Warmth suddenly began to spread through him, reaching all his veins and eventually his very heart. He looked round at Sirius and found him grinning.

"Eat," he instructed.

Harry ate, and then tried again.

"But what was a _dementor_ doing _here_?"

"They're the guards of Azkaban," Sirius told the compartment at large. "They'll be stationed all over Hogwarts and Hogsmeade this year, in light of Peter Pettigrew's escape. It is the request of the Ministry, unfortunately. Tonight, they were searching the train for Pettigrew."

"But—"

"Look Harry, it's too many questions to be asking right after an almost-attack. Let's just…calm down for a bit and when we get to Hogwarts I'll explain everything to you, okay?"

Harry wanted to argue but suddenly felt too tired to do so. He nodded instead, and Sirius patted him on the shoulder. He got to his feet and made for the compartment door.

"Wait!" Harry called after him.

Sirius turned around.

"What on earth are you doing here?" Harry asked, somehow already knowing the answer before the grin spread across Sirius' tired-looking face.

"I decided to ride the train so that I could surprise you all," he told him. "I'm the new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher."

"You are?!" cried Neville and Ron together.

Sirius' grin widened.

"Yeah I was going to pop in shortly to tell you all…but then when the train stopped and I realised what was happening, I ran here as fast as I could. Listen, I've got to go. I need to talk to the driver."

"But Sirius!" said Harry, but Sirius only smiled at him, winked at Ginny (who was still whimpering into Neville's comforting arm) and mouthed "later" to Harry before disappearing from the compartment.

Ron, Harry noticed, had taken to unwrapping the rest of the chocolate bar that Sirius had left and clambered some more into his mouth. Harry was still and silent for a few more minutes before Neville motioned for him to take over Ginny, while he moved back to his own seat. Harry moved to sit next to Ginny and she took his hand in hers again.

"S-so," he said, addressing Ron and Neville, "Neither of you two heard it then? The screaming, I mean."

" _No_ , mate, no one other than you screamed," Ron said, shaking his head.

Harry nodded and then turned to look back out the window again, not bothering to tell Ron that he was wrong. Harry had distinctly heard his mother's shrieks—he knew it had happened because he had never felt more horrified. It was as though his very heart was trembling with fear inside him.

The rest of the train journey was, on the whole, much calmer. Ginny had relaxed after a while and fell asleep against the ice-cold window. Ron forced Harry to play Gobbstones so as to distract him from the almost-attack, and Neville went to go and find Luna, finally returning an hour later with the news that she was in a compartment with fellow Gryffindor second-years.

"Might as well, she's really weird," said Ron, shrugging.

Finally, at long last, the Hogwarts Express pulled in to the rainy tracks at Hogsmeade Station. The gang, having already changed into their Hogwarts robes, pulled their trunks and their bags over their heads and, exiting the train, made a run for it. Harry did not even have time to greet Hagrid, who was waiting at the very front for the first-years.

By the time the students had reached the castle, they were all completely soaked from head to toe, along with their belongings. Their drenched shoes slipped beneath their feet as they all clambered into the crowded Entrance Hall. The door into the Great Hall stood open at the right; Harry followed the crowd toward it, but had barely glimpsed the enchanted ceiling, which was black and cloudy tonight, when a voice called, "Potter! Weasley! Longbottom!"

Harry and the gang slowly turned around to face Professor McGonagall, who was standing at the edge of the corridor, looking at them over the heads of the sea of students. They waited until their classmates passed before they slowly crossed the hall to greet her.

"Follow me," she told them. "There is no need to look so worried, Mr. Weasley—I just want a word in my office. Where is your sister?"

"She's probably already in the Great Hall," Ron mumbled as the group followed her through the corridors.

Once they were in her office, a small room with a large, welcoming fire, Professor McGonagall motioned for the three to sit down. She settled herself behind her desk and said abruptly, "Professor Black sent an owl ahead to say that you three had witnessed an almost-attack by a dementor. I am under the impression that you, Mr. Potter, passed out?"

Before any of them could reply, there was a soft knock on the door and Madame Pomfrey came bustling in, followed by Sirius. Harry felt himself going red in the face. It was bad enough that he'd passed out, or whatever he had done, without everyone making all this fuss.

"I'm fine," he said, quickly. "I don't need anything—"

"Oh, it's you, is it?" said Madame Pomfrey, ignoring this and bending down to stare closely at him. "I suppose you've been doing something dangerous again?"

"It was a dementor, Poppy," said Professor McGonagall.

They exchanged a dark look while Sirius went to sit at the armchair in the corner and put his hands behind his head. Madame Pomfrey clucked disapprovingly.

"Setting dementors around a school," she muttered, pushing back Harry's hair and feeling his forehead. "He won't be the last one who collapses. Yes, he's all clammy. Terrible things, they are, and the effect they have on people who are already delicate—"

"I'm not delicate!" said Harry crossly. "Why would I be delicate?"

He looked round at Sirius but he did not answer and he was _not_ smirking at all.

"Of course you're not," said Madame Pomfrey absentmindedly, now taking his pulse.

"What does he need?" said Professor McGonagall crisply. "Bed rest? Should he perhaps spend the night in the hospital wing?"

"I'm _fine!_ " said Harry, jumping up.

The thought of what all his classmates would say if he had to go to the hospital wing was torture.

"Well, he should have some chocolate, at the very least," said Madame Pomfrey, who was now trying to peer into Harry's eyes.

"I've already given him some," said Sirius. "I gave it to all of them."

"Did you , now?" said Madame Pomfrey approvingly. "Glad to hear our new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher knows his remedies!"

Sirius smiled at her.

"How are you two doing?" said Professor McGonagall, turning to look at Ron and Neville. "Neither of you fainted, did you?"

"No, we didn't," said Ron.

"We're okay," said Neville.

Ron nodded, though Harry admitted he looked a little green. Professor McGonagall seemed to be thinking along the same lines because she urged Madame Pomfrey to give him some more chocolate.

"Are you sure you feel all right, Potter?" Professor McGonagall said sharply.

" _Yes_ ," said Harry, who just wished everyone would stop treating him like some fragile kid.

"Very well then. You three may go back. I will go and find your sister, Mr. Weasley."

"Why don't _I_ escort them out?" said Sirius, also getting to his feet.

Harry really liked the sound of that. He eagerly followed the others out of the office and down several flights of stairs until the group reached the Entrance Hall. McGonagall went into the Great Hall straightaway while Madame Pomfrey departed for the Hospital Wing.

"Blimey, I thought we were going to get into trouble for something," said Ron.

"To be honest, I thought so too," said Neville.

"Nah it's just standard procedure," said Sirius, reassuringly. "Dementors are really foul."

Harry didn't say anything, but made to follow his friends into the Great Hall when Sirius put a hand on his shoulder.

"Mind if we skip the feast?"

"Not at all!" Harry told him, gratefully.

He waved goodbye to his friends and followed Sirius down many corridors until they reached Remus'/McGonagall's old office. Sirius closed the door behind them and Harry collapsed on comfortable-looking couch at the center of the room. The office looked spectacularly cozy. Sirius lit a lamp and sat next to him.

"So McGonagall's going to take Transfiguration back this year?" Harry asked him.

"Yeah, that's the plan," said Sirius. "Look, I know you have a lot of questions so I'm gonna let you do what you have to do."

"Good," said Harry, sitting up. "Because the first thing I want to know is why the hell you didn't tell me that you're going to teach here this year?"

* * *

"Wow," said Ron after Harry had finished telling him, Neville, Ginny and Hermione the entire story of what he and Sirius had talked about in his office.

"I mean, _wow_ ," said Ron.

The group was huddled by the fireplace couches in the common room. It was already very late and everyone else had gone off to sleep. Hermione had meant to go too, but seemed a bit excited to see the group again and so she had decided to stick around.

"So Sirius is going to be teaching you how to repel the dementors?" said Ron.

"Yep," said Harry. "Looks like it."

"How do you do it?" Ginny asked in a small voice.

"The Patronus Charm," said Hermione and Neville together. They grinned at each other. "I've read about it," Hermione added. "It's meant to act as a sort of silver shield."

"I don't care what colour the shield is, as long as I don't get attacked again, now that these dementors are all over the castle," said Harry.

"Well I think it's very exciting that you'll be learning how to produce a patronus charm," said Hermione. "They're said to be really difficult to learn, even for grown wizards."

"Yeah, it's a good thing that Sirius will be teaching you," said Neville. "I'm actually relieved that he's the new teacher. I can't believe he didn't tell us!"

"Yeah, you and me both," said Harry.

"Alright," said Ron, clapping his hands together. "Let's stop this for tonight. Exploding Snap, anyone?"

"Yeah, for sure!" said Harry, who was relieved for the distraction from the day's unexpected events.

The group played for about two hours, stopping when it was already half past one in the morning. Then, Hermione and Ginny went up to the girls' dormitory and Ron yawned and announced that he was going to crash too. Neville made to join him when Harry tapped his shoulder. Ron stopped halfway up the spiral staircase, realising that they weren't following him.

"Y-you guys coming?" he said.

"Um," said Neville, looking from him to Harry and back. "No I think we'll stay for a bit."

"Okay," said Ron, rolling his eyes.

When he was gone, Neville turned back to Harry, nodded, and then took a seat on the couch.

"So what did Sirius say when you asked him about the screams you heard?"

Harry took a deep breath.

"He told me that when a dementor gets too near to a person, they start to suck all the happiness out of them…they start to bring back all their worst memories." He paused. "The screaming that I heard on the train was…my mother's. She had screamed like that on the night that Voldemort came to kill me."

"Wait, you remember that?" said Neville, sitting up.

"Vaguely," Harry corrected him. "I remember some red and green flashes. I remember lightning too. But I never knew about the screaming…until tonight."

Neville frowned at him.

"So when you asked Sirius why the dementor only affected you…"

"He said that it's because of that night…that it was a really terrible night and though the results weren't tragic, the rest of my life was really good so it's my worst memory. I guess you guys don't have memories like that."

"True," said Neville. "Although I think if I was present for my parents' tortures, I would have qualified tonight."

Harry looked at him nervously. It was the first time Neville had ever acknowledged his parents in front of Harry. Realising this himself, his eyes fell on the fireplace and he was still for a very long time.

"What are you thinking?" Harry asked, unable to wait any longer.

Neville bit his lip.

"It's just that…no one's ever told you exactly what happened that night, did they? Not your parents, not Dumbledore, not Sirius or Remus…you just kind of grew up knowing that you are the Boy Who Conquered and because of you and your parents, Lord Voldemort disappeared."

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying," said Neville, getting to his feet again, "That it's about time you asked the long overdue question."

* * *

 _Draco_

* * *

"No way!"

"Come on!"

"Not happening!"

"Please?"

Hermione stared at Draco's puppy-dog face permissively and shook her head. The two of them were standing in the middle of the crowded station platform, amidst their fellow classmates saying goodbye to their parents. Hermione's had already left, and Draco's had not escorted him (no surprise there), so he had waited until they left before breaking the news.

"I can't just sit with you and your friends!" Hermione objected. "Look, it's just…it's not normal!"

"I have news for you, my darling," said Draco, also crossing his arms to mirror Hermione. "You are _not_ a normal person."

"I—"

"No normal person spends their entire childhood reading 800-page books for fun. No normal person spends their free time trying to come up with news ways to be organised. No normal person—"

"Okay, I get it!" laughed Hermione. But when Blaise and Avery moved over to where she and Draco were standing, her face grew serious again.

"Do it for me?" he whispered.

He swore that Hermione had never looked more frightened in the entire time that he'd known her. But she took a nervous breath, nodded, and then turned to face his friends.

"Hey Draco!" said Crabbe and Goyle, who had joined on either side of Blaise and Avery.

"Hey guys, have a good summer?" said Draco.

"Yeah, it was great!"

"I went to Turkey with my dad…" Blaise's voice trailed off because he'd noticed Hermione was standing beside Draco without the slightest intention of going away. "Um, hi there."

"Hello," said Hermione, in a small voice.

"We've met before, I'm Blaise Zabini," he said, pointing to himself.

Draco gave him a thankful nod. He had spoken with Blaise about this before—about making Hermione a part of the group. His theory, though he had neglected to mention it to Hermione just yet, was that if his friends could step up and make her feel like a part of them, perhaps she would spend more time with them instead of her little Gryffindors. And then, it wouldn't matter that Draco couldn't meet up with her over the summers anymore. Hogwarts would be all that counted.

"Yeah I remember," said Hermione.

"And this is Atticus Avery but we all just call him Avery," said Blaise.

"Yes we've met before too," said Hermione, nodding at Avery who stared back at her, jumped at Draco's warning look, and then nodded in response.

The train suddenly let out a loud whistle and all the students began boarding. Draco grabbed Hermione's arm before she could attempt to get away, and said "Shall we?" to his friends so that they all boarded the train together. Blaise led them to the first empty compartment he could find and they each filed in, Hermione taking the seat nearest to the window and pushing Draco to sit down next to her.

"Do you uh…need help with that?" Blaise asked her, pointing at the carry-on bag she had with her.

"Oh," she said, slowly handing it to him. "Thanks."

He pulled the bag over his head and threw it onto the luggage rack above, then proceeding to do the same with his bag. Avery also did the same on the other luggage rack with first his bag, then Draco's and then Crabbe's and Goyle's. Finally, Blaise sat across from Hermione with Avery at his side, while Crabbe and Goyle were nearest to the doors. The group waited in complete silence, all of them either staring at each other or random points of the compartment, until the train gave another loud whistle and jolted to a slow start.

For the longest time, or so it seemed, the group was completely silent. Hermione and Draco kept exchanging looks but no one said anything. Then, Blaise casually leaned against the window, looking up at the sky.

"Man, it's really getting darker," he said, mostly to himself.

"They said there is supposed to be a rainstorm on the news," Hermione informed him.

"Who's 'they'?" Avery asked.

Draco kicked him hard on the foot.

"What?—I'm just curious."

"It's okay to be curious," said Hermione, giving Draco a startled look before turning back to Avery, "The muggle news forecaster. Muggles have all this technology, you see, that allows them to predict the weather for the next couple of hours…days…and even weeks…it's b-based on patterns."

"Wow," said Avery, casually. "Didn't know that."

"See? You learn something every day, don't you, Aves?" said Draco, smiling brightly.

Avery rolled his eyes at him and then leaned his head back against the seat. Hermione blushed slightly as she felt all boys' eyes on her, and then glanced back out the window.

"So," said Blaise, conversationally. "That Pettigrew man's sure stirred some trouble this summer, hasn't he?"

"Yeah," they all agreed.

Silence fell upon them again, and still, the sky outside grew darker and darker as the train soared forwards.

"Hogsmeade should be good this year," Blaise tried.

"Yeah, I'm excited for Honeydukes," said Crabbe.

"You would," said Draco and Avery together.

The others laughed. Silence again.

Why was it really all that difficult to string together more than a few sentences when Hermione was among them?

"Okay," said Blaise, finally sitting up and clapping his hands once. "So let's talk dark arts teachers. Anyone any ideas?"

Hermione gave Draco a pointed smile, and he buried his face in his hands.

So on the whole, it wasn't such a terrible start to the train journey. After a little while, the boys let loose (though not completely) and relaxed a little bit around Hermione. The group spent the first half hour avidly debating the possibilities for new dark arts teachers. Hermione did not end up mentioning Sirius, which Draco was extremely grateful for. He hadn't had the opportunity to explain to any of his friends exactly how Sirius tied into everything. He wasn't sure he wanted all of them to know. He knew that he would probably end up telling Blaise and Avery, but Crabbe and Goyle were just about the biggest mouths in all of Hogwarts. It'd be a bad idea to let them in on it.

By the time that the lady with the food trolley began making her rounds, rain was pounding hard against the train windows and the sky was significantly darker. In light of this, all of the train's lanterns were lit.

When the lady reached their compartment, Blaise motioned for everyone to sit back down and announced that he was buying the treats. Hermione protested this at once but Draco forcefully sat her back down.

"He's not the type of guy you want to argue with when it comes to this sort of stuff," he told her in a low voice as Blaise paid the lady. "Just…say thank you and enjoy."

"But I—"

"Trust me."

Hermione sighed and gave Blaise the warmest smile she possible could when he handed her a licorice wand and a packet of _Bertie Bott's every Flavour Beans_.

"Nah, it's no problem," said Blaise at once, handing Crabbe and Goyle their very favourite Chocolate Frogs.

"Draco?" he said, handing him two cauldron cakes.

"Thanks," Draco muttered, accepting them.

Avery grabbed a pumpkin pasty from Blaise and then sat him back down, laughing.

"So anyone know what Professor Lupin is up to these days?" Avery asked the compartment at large, though Draco spotted his eyes landing on Hermione for a fraction of a second longer than on anyone else.

"I have no idea," he declared.

The boys all turned to Hermione and she too, shrugged.

"I am not in touch with him," she added at the sight of Avery narrowing his eyes at her.

"Aren't you friends with Potter and the Weasleys?"

"Not really," Hermione admitted. "I mean…well, we're in the same house so obviously we bump into each other from time to time."

"Obviously," said Avery.

"But I'm not…we don't spend holidays together or anything like that."

"You're kidding," said Blaise. "I'd have thought you were all ready to parent each other's godchildren or something."

"What he means," said Draco, giving him a warning look before turning back to Hermione, "Is that you all look really close from afar."

"Perhaps you should get yourself a pair of glasses then?" Hermione suggested sweetly, a smirk cheating its way onto her face.

Blaise howled with laughter and Avery said, "Touché", while Draco went red in the face and stuffed a cauldron cake into his mouth. Well, at least he had managed to divert the conversation from the dangerous waters that it was headed towards, so that was certainly something.

After they had finished snacking, Blaise got a deck of cards out and began to deal Draco and Hermione, while Avery contented himself with reading his latest buy from _Borgin & Burke's_, much to Hermione's displeasure (which unfortunately, was clearly plastered all over her face). Draco silently cursed. His friends were really trying here, so why couldn't she put in some more effort? She had no idea how weird it was for them to be this normal. Usually, it was all talks about dark stuff that she wouldn't understand…or plans for playing tricks on Gryffindors…or killing them out on the Quidditch field.

When the boys finally grew tired of their games and rerouted the conversation to the topic of Quidditch, Draco signaled Hermione to follow him out.

"Where the heck are you two going?" said Avery.

"A walk," said Draco, simply, while he let Hermione pass towards the compartment doors.

"He means to say that they're gonna go make out like monkeys," said Blaise, casually.

"Don't make me hex you, Zabini," Draco said, glaring at him, but a little smirk still crossed his face as he followed Hermione out of the compartment. He was happy to know that Blaise had not changed at all over the summer.

Hermione, on the other hand, looked completely taken aback by what Blaise had just said, and Draco pointed this out as he shut the door behind them and began the search for an empty compartment.

"It's not like he said anything outrageous," he told her. " _Come on_ , he was only joking."

"Still," said Hermione, shaking her head furiously. "It…it made me really uncomfortable."

"Why?"

"Well…because you're my friend! We're nothing more than that."

"I know," said Draco, his head peering into compartment after compartment as the train moved forwards.

"Does he?" Hermione pointed out.

Draco looked round at her, frowning.

"Yeah, of course he does. They all do. Look, it's like I said—he was only joking, okay? There is no need to make a bigger deal out of it. Holy, I actually found one. Here."

He pulled open a compartment door and Hermione followed him inside, taking a seat next to the window. He sat across from her and leaned his head against the seat.

"I didn't think we'd actually find an empty place," he told her.

Hermione still looked agitated.

"Um," said Draco, biting his lip at the question that he was dying to ask her.

"What?" she said, looking startled.

"W-what did you, um, think of them…of my f-friends…?"

Hermione gave him a small smile.

"To be perfectly honest with you, I liked Avery the best," she began. "Blaise was nice too—a little inappropriate, but all the same, nice. I'm not sure I care much for Crabbe and Goyle."

"Yeah, they're a bit dim," Draco told her. "Don't mind them. Half the time they don't even know where they are."

"I don't think that's true," said Hermione, turning back to the window upon which the rain was thundering hard.

"So you liked _Avery_ the best? I mean, really?"

"Yeah, why is that so surprising to you?"

"Well," said Draco, slowly. "I actually hated his guts when I first met him. I guess I just never pegged you as...well...nevermind."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him.

"People change, Draco."

"You certainly have."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Weaslebee's sister is your new besties, isn't she?"

"Oh shut up, she's really fun, okay?"

"Whatever."

Hermione sighed.

"Well I'm actually glad I sat with you boys. I was very nervous about it at first…"

"Really? Hadn't noticed," said Draco, smirking at her.

She rolled her eyes at him.

"I just…"

"You fit right in," he blurted out.

She paused.

"Did I really?"

"Like a perfectly-fitted glove," Draco told her, smiling again. "I didn't even expect it myself, but you really did fit right in."

"Thank you," she said, smiling sweetly at him. "That means more than you'll ever know."

They sat in silence for the next couple of minutes, and then Draco frowned at her.

"What do you reckon Pettigrew's escaped for?"

"I really don't know," said Hermione, also frowning. "It seems peculiar that he has somehow managed it after twelve years of imprisonment. I mean, if he had the means to escape all this time, why wait?"

"I heard mother say that she thinks he got help from someone."

"What, you mean like it was an inside job or something?"

Draco shrugged.

"Well, whoever it was that helped him, they are a dangerous and untrustworthy individual…and if they are working for the ministry or someone of high authority, that worries me a great deal."

After a short silence, Draco frowned at her again.

"Do you think you'll end up working for the ministry one day?"

Hermione looked taken aback by this question.

"I'm just curious," Draco added. "I mean, have you ever even thought about what you'd do after Hogwarts?"

"Sure I've thought about it," she told him. "And I know everyone thinks I'll go off doing something super prestigious because I'm a goody-goody with all these perfect marks in school. But I feel…a little rebellious."

"Rebellious how?" said Draco, suspiciously.

"I think it would just be wicked cool if I ended up doing something completely unexpected and shocked pretty much everyone who knows me."

"Like what?" said Draco, urgently.

"Oh I don't know," said Hermione, shrugging and blushing at the same time. "I haven't really given it that much thought. It's just an idea that I've had for some time." She paused. "What about you? Where will you be after Hogwarts?"

"Far away from home, that's for sure," said Draco, turning back to the thundering window.

He was just about to ask Hermione whether she'd be up to let Blaise or Avery join them on their next library homework session—as part of his grand scheme to make her one of them—when the train suddenly screeched awfully loudly and halted to a very abrupt stop, making both Draco and Hermione jump from their seats.

"What just happened?" she said, panicked.

The lights flickered for a few seconds before dying completely. Draco felt around in the darkness until his hand landed on Hermione's. She held it tightly but wiped a patch clean on the now completely black window. The rain was thundering ever so loudly, accompanied by the occasional lightning.

"It's probably just some technical difficulties, that's all," Draco told her, though he himself felt slightly panicked too.

An intense cold suddenly swept over them to the point where Draco could actually see Hermione breathing. The window itself began to freeze over before their very eyes.

"What the hell is happening…" Draco mumbled, mostly to himself.

The train suddenly rattled, making Hermione gasp. Draco quickly moved to sit next to her, and both of them leaned against the ice-cold window to get a better look. But the rain was pouring at such an accelerating speed now that they could hardly tell what was happening outside. The train gave another sudden jolt and there was a loud bang somewhere.

"I'll go check it out," Draco told Hermione, trying to let go of her hand, but she held onto it hard and got up with him.

"I'll go with you," she said, her voice trembling slightly.

They felt their way through the completely darkened compartment until they reached the door.

All along the carriage, heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments into the darkness. Distant thuds and bangs told them that compartment doors had slid shut. Then, without warning, all the lights in the corridor flickered back on and vanished again, so that they were all plunged into total darkness. Another loud bang sounded from the end of the corridor and Draco and Hermione quickly hurried back into their own compartment and sat nearest to the window again.

"I think someone's come aboard…" Draco told her in half a whisper.

It seemed like they sat there in the darkness for the longest time, both of them trembling slightly, not from the cold, but from the fear. They remained quiet as they waited—for what, they didn't know. They just waited.

"We should go and check on your friends," Hermione whispered into the darkness a while after.

" _No_ , we should stay put and not go wandering," Draco contradicted.

Hermione made to argue, but was suddenly silenced by a terrible sight from out of the compartment. The hideous-looking, slimy, foul-smelling creature slid open their compartment door and hovered in the corridor for a few long seconds. Hermione let out a small whimper but Draco's hand flew to her mouth to silence her. He had a strong feeling that this creature, whatever it was, could not see, because it was hidden beneath a long black cloak completely, and did not seem to have any feet supporting it. A terrible, slimy hand etched out of its cloak however, and closed the compartment door again. The creature moved down the corridor, and Draco's hand slowly slid away from Hermione's mouth. She let out a trembling breath.

Draco wasn't sure how much time passed since the creature had left them, but eventually, the lights came back on and the train slowly began to move forwards again. Hermione, looking completely shaken, accepted the candy that Draco had pocketed from a few hours before. She chewed on it quietly, while Draco stared out the window at the thundering rain. Then, Hermione spoke up, very, very quietly.

"It was a dementor."

Draco turned his head to look at her.

"How d'you know that?"

"I've read about them. They're…the treacherous guards of Azkaban."

" _They_ guard Azkaban Prison?!"

Hermione nodded her head slowly, her eyes on the ground.

"Whoa," breathed Draco. "That's…"

"A scary thought, yeah," Hermione agreed.

"I've never heard of dementors."

"They're…they're thought to be the foulest creatures to exist upon this earth," she said, even more quietly.

"What do they do?" Draco dared to ask, not sure that he wanted to know the answer.

"They suck your soul out of you until you are left with just an empty shell," Hermione said. Draco shuddered at these words. "They target all your happiest moments—every glorious memory…and they leave you with all the bad ones…all the tragedy. It's like food for them. They feed on your happiness…like…like…"

"…demons…" said Draco, nodding.

The thought of his aunt or Sirius' brother being in Azkaban at that very moment, surrounded by hundreds of those terrible creatures, made Draco sick to his stomach. He wouldn't wish that upon anyone—not even his greatest enemy. But then, this meant the things they had done must have been really terrible to land them in such a horrifying place. That was not a comforting thought either.

Draco suddenly glanced at Hermione and saw that she still looked shaken, and a tear even escaped her left eye. Putting his troubled family aside, Draco sat up suddenly.

"Hermione," he said, "Tell me about the Medieval Assembly of European Wizards again? I've completely spaced on it and Binns promised to test us on it more this year."

Hermione, who looked completely taken aback by this sudden randomness, agreed nevertheless and proceeded with the enchantingly boring tale of the Medieval Assembly of European Wizards. Draco however, let her ramble on about it, knowing perfectly well that it was what she needed right now. The tale carried her all the way through the rest of the journey, until the Hogwarts Express finally pulled in to Hogsmeade Station. The pair hurried back to their old compartment to get their bags. Then, bracing themselves, they all hurried out of the train and ran for the carriages that would take them up to the castle. The trouble was, everyone had taken to the same idea.

Draco felt himself being shoved and pushed among the sea of students all screaming under the pouring rain. Hermione seemed to have been pulled to the other side of the station because he lost sight of her completely, along with Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle. He boarded one of the random carriages with Avery and a few Ravenclaw students, and braced himself against the pouring rain.

Arriving at the front steps of the castle at last, the students hurried inside, all of them soaked from head to toe. Draco caught sight of Hermione getting off one of the carriages with a group of Hufflepuffs, and waved goodbye to her as he felt himself being pushed into the brightly lit Great Hall. He and Avery automatically made for the Slytherin table and waited a long while as everyone else filed into the Great Hall, before they finally spotted Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle moving towards them.

"Bloody ridiculous out there!" hissed Blaise, who was splattering raindrops everywhere as he shook his head violently.

"Careful there, Blaise!" Avery cried, wiping the small puddles from the table.

Although they were practically starved, the students had to wait until after the Sorting Ceremony before they could eat. This year, for some strange reason, Professor McGonagall was absent for the ceremony, and so Professor Sinistra—the Astronomy teacher—had to take over instead. It was a rather dull affair, and Draco found himself tuning out for most of it. His eyes instead landed on the staff table, for which he searched a familiar old face. Snape met his eyes and gave him a small nod. Draco smiled at him. He had missed him, over what felt like too long of a summer break. Draco then proceeded to scan the staff table, hoping to find a new face that would indicate the new dark arts teacher. But none of the faces there were new, and in fact, three chairs (one of them presumably the new teacher's) were empty. Draco gave a slight jump when Avery nudged him on the shoulder, indicating that the ceremony had ended and the food had appeared on the tables.

At that moment, the doors to the Great Hall opened again and in came Professor McGonagall, looking stern and bold as usual. She hurried over to the Gryffindor table, followed by Weaslebee and Longbottom. They took their seats, while the Weasley girl got out of hers and followed McGonagall out of the Great Hall once more. Potter, Draco noticed, had failed to make an appearance so far.

"Huh," said Avery, also noticing this, "Oh well. Maybe he's transferred to another school."

Draco rolled his eyes at the ridiculous suggestion. Hogwarts was like Potter's kingdom. He would die before he moved to another school.

When the desserts were finally served, Dumbledore got to his feet to do his usual speech where he reminded the students of the rules they were not to break, and also introduced new teachers. Again, Draco tuned out for most of this. He wasn't interested in hearing any of it. He found his eyes landing on the Gryffindor table again, where Hermione was sitting with Longbottom and he was apparently whispering into her ear.

"Now as you all know," said Dumbledore to the room at large, "Hogwarts will, until further notice, play host to the dementors of Azkaban, until such time that Peter Pettigrew is captured. Now, whilst I have been assured by the ministry that the dementors will not disrupt our day-to-day activities, a word of caution—dementors are vicious creatures and will not distinguish between the one they hunt and the one who gets in their way. Therefore I must warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. It is not in the nature of a dementor to be forgiving."

Draco gulped nervously at these words, as he knew everyone else in the Great Hall must have done. He got a strange, eerie sort of numbness when he even heard someone mentioning the word 'dementor'. He really did not fancy finding out just how unforgiving the foul creatures could be.

"But you know," Dumbledore continued, more brightly now, "Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light."

" _What the bloody hell is he talking about now?_ " Avery hissed into Draco's ear.

Draco grinned at him, his eyes landing back on Hermione across the hall. She looked slightly disturbed by Dumbledore's description of the dementors. Beside her, Longbottom whispered something again and she nodded her head. Draco found himself itching to find out just what they were whispering about.

"…and finally," came Dumbledore's voice again, loudly, "We are pleased to welcome a new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher this year, who is unfortunately absent from the feast tonight, due to personal affairs. I am sure you will all join me in welcoming him around the school halls tomorrow—Professor Sirius Black."

Draco's eyes snapped up to where Dumbledore stood at the front.

Did he just say what Draco thought he'd said? Had he heard him right? Was it really true? He looked round at Hermione across the hall, and she beamed at him from her table. Yep, it was true. And suddenly, it was as though Draco had known all along that this would happen, but had just managed to live in denial. Hermione had been right—last year was definitely going to be nothing compared to this year. And if Snape ended up being the Potions teacher for the Slytherins again, it would be a _golden_ year.

As the feast came to an end and the boys made their way to the dungeons, Draco found his spirits incredibly lifted. Why couldn't Sirius have told him in the letter that he'd applied for that teaching position? Then at least he'd have had _something_ to look forward to—something to keep him going through the dreadful summer.

" _Legilimency_ ," Marcus Flint uttered the password, waved hello to Draco, and then moved to a corner of the common room with his group of seventh-years. Draco collapsed on one of the large green couches at the center of the room, and Blaise and Avery collapsed right across from him. Crabbe and Goyle resorted to taking seats on the carpeted floor because all the couches seemed to be occupied within seconds. Everyone was really tired from that run in the rain.

For the first little while, Draco just sat there with his eyes closed and his head rested on the couch's back, listening to all the conversations happening around him. Avery was telling Blaise about something that he'd seen at Borgin's shop a week ago. Crabbe was asking Goyle how to get from the Astronomy Tower to the Divination room. Everyone else, it seemed, was discussing one thing and one thing only—Peter Pettigrew.

"I bet that's why the dementors searched the train," some girls were saying.

"I heard that Pettigrew escaped Azkaban to go become the new Dark Lord," some boy said.

"What if he ends up coming here? You know he used to be a student here…"

"I overheard Professor McGonagall saying that he was a real git when he was at school here."

"Maybe he was just pretending."

"I hope those dementors don't bother us in our Quidditch matches."

A soft smirk crossed Draco's face. He didn't need to have eyes to know that it was Marcus Flint who had uttered that last statement. Though, now that he thought about it, it would be quite disastrous if those dementors interfered with their Quidditch games.

Suddenly, someone threw themselves onto the seat next to him, and Draco's eyes flew open. Pansy Parkinson was sitting on the couch with him, her green eyes staring at him with curiosity.

"Can I help you?" he said, resting his head back on the couch.

"Wondering what's up with you, that's all," she said, simply.

"How d'you mean?"

"You look ill."

Draco frowned at her.

"I'm fine," he said. He certainly felt it. He had no idea what she was talking about.

"Whatever you say," she responded, sitting back on the couch.

Draco stared at her for a good couple of seconds before he said, quite boldly, "You know, I'm actually kind of tired."

"Mm," said Pansy, looking around the common room. "Yeah, I'm kind of tired too."

Draco stared at her. Was this girl just _not_ getting the hint?

"Okay," he said, getting up. "I'll go to bed then," he added, looking round at Blaise and Avery who nodded at him.

"Oh good," said Pansy, spreading her legs on the couch where Draco had sat moments ago. "I was hoping you would say that. Otherwise, how would I get you to move from the couch?"

Draco stared at her. _What nerve this girl had!_

"Right," he mumbled, giving a short wave to his friends and departing for the dormitories.

He really didn't fancy having this argument tonight with anyone. It had been a really long day, and to think that he had been home just that morning!

After he'd changed out of his school robes, Draco scrambled into bed and turned his head to look out the window, where the rain was still pouring heavily. He felt that he could not stop himself smiling. Sirius was here. He was actually here, in the castle, for the year. He was going to be teaching here, eating here, and sleeping here. The thought of being taught defense against the dark arts by Sirius—the thought of being able to bump into him at any point…made Draco smile happily. Who knew that Hogwarts could get a hundred times better, simply within a matter of hours?

And as Draco drifted off to sleep, he found himself thinking…once, _just this once_ , it felt really, really good to be proven wrong by Hermione Granger.

* * *

 **Thanks and don't forget to review!**

 **A reply to Luna : Your review made my day so thank you for that :) I can promise you that there will be no original characters at any point throughout this story. I plan to bring out the canon underdogs. I'll try to update at least once a week, but between work and classes, I'll be fairly busy. I do promise to finish this story. I would never give up on any story. And lastly, with regards to the Dementors, yes, you assumed correctly, as I'm sure you've noticed by the title of this chapter ;) **

**A reply to DaOneInDaCorner : Draco's not "poured rat poison into his parents' drinks" by now because he's not mental. But thanks for your inquiry! :/ **


	22. Year 3: Apologies and Hippogriffs

**Author's Note : I know, I know. The wait was too long, and for that, I am sorry. Actually, there aren't many apologies in the chapter, so the title is more directed from me to you amazing readers XD It's been a CRAZY hectic couple of weeks. But thank you for your patience! I'll be updating the next chapter just as soon as it's done.**

 **Also, since I totally get that it's hard to read a chapter update when it's been a while since the last update, and that you might have to go back and reread chapters to remember what was going on, I've taken the liberty of adding the last couple of sentences from the previous chapter at the start of each perspective in this chapter, and I'll probably start doing that from now on to help you guys remember so you don't have to go back and reread bits and pieces. Even though, I don't think the gaps between updates will be this long from now on. Again, very sorry!**

 **Enjoy reading..**

 **Disclaimer : Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks**

* * *

CHAPTER 22: YEAR 3—APOLOGIES AND HIPPOGRIFFS

* * *

 _Harry_

* * *

 _"...What are you thinking?" Harry asked, unable to wait any longer._

 _Neville bit his lip._

 _"It's just that…no one's ever told you exactly what happened that night, did they? Not your parents, not Dumbledore, not Sirius or Remus…you just kind of grew up knowing that you are the Boy Who Conquered and because of you and your parents, Lord Voldemort disappeared."_

 _"So what are you saying?"_

 _"I'm saying," said Neville, getting to his feet again, "That it's about time you asked the long overdue question..."_

* * *

The following morning, Harry, Ron, Dean and Seamus were woken by a commotion in their dormitory. Neville was jumping over the beds and tripping on the carpet in his wild attempt to catch Trevor, who was hopping madly about the room. After several minutes of struggling, the boys finally managed to get a hold of the excited toad. However, none of them were able to go back to sleep now, and so they dressed and decided to go down to breakfast already.

They were the first to arrive there and thus enjoyed the freshly baked buns and warm toast before the other early birds began lazily making their way into the Great Hall. For the first little while, the boys ate in silence, and only began talking after the owl post began to arrive. Harry had gotten his annual "Good luck this year!" note from his parents and a copy of the Prophet, which he let Neville read. Ron got an angry letter from his mother, reminding him to take care of Pigwidgeon and not let him run away. Dean and Seamus began arguing about who they wanted to join Gryffindor's Quidditch team that year, and Harry half-listened to them and half-watched Professor McGonagall start handing out timetables as the Great Hall filled up considerably.

"You've got to control that toad of yours, Neville," said Ron, yawning loudly. "I'm so tired!"

"Sorry guys," Neville repeated for about the twentieth time that morning.

Harry brushed this off. Having grown up with Neville, he knew what a handful Trevor could be, and so he didn't bother giving him any grief about it.

"Manners, Weasley!" Professor McGonagall cried when she'd finally reached their side of the table and Ron let out another loud yawn.

"S-sorry," he mumbled, looking down at his plate.

Giving him a cold look, Professor McGonagall shuffled through the stack of sheets in her hands and pulled three out, handing them to Ron, Neville, and then to Harry.

" _We have Potions with Slughorn!"_ Ron hissed into his ear.

Harry examined the timetable and sure enough, Slughorn's name was printed clearly next to Potions for Gryffindors and Ravenclaws on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays at noon.

"Excellent," he said, his eyes glinting with excitement.

Though he wasn't too fond of Slughorn always pointing him out as the Boy Who Conquered and reminding the whole class that a very important person was among them, there was no doubt in that Slughorn was ten times better than Snape ever would be.

"Who's Trelawney?" Ron wondered, pointing at the name that was written next to their newest subject—Divination.

Harry shrugged. "Dunno."

"When do we have it?" said Neville.

"Tuesdays and Thursdays," said Ron. "So we don't have to worry about it until third period tomorrow."

"I wonder what Divination's going to be like," said Neville, thoughtfully. "I've heard loads of different things."

"I've only heard the bad," said Ron. "I'm pretty sure everyone thinks that teacher is from another planet."

"Have an open mind, will you?" said Hermione, who'd overheard this as she was seated not too far from them.

Ron shrugged, and Harry looked back down at the timetable. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of the name "Black" printed right next to Defense against the Dark Arts. He still couldn't believe it was true.

"Ugh, we have it with the Slytherins though," Ron commented, also eyeing Sirius' name on the timetable.

"Who cares?" said Harry. "It's _Sirius_." He smiled. "It's going to be an amazing year."

And what was even more amazing was that Defense was their first lesson of the day. So, quickly finishing up their breakfast, they gathered their things and made their way to the Defense classroom on the third floor, all of them excited for what Sirius had in store for them. But when he arrived, Harry froze at the door. Sirius was sitting atop the teacher's desk with his back turned to him, seemingly in a deep conversation.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Ron asked, following his gaze.

His eyebrows rose slightly. Sirius was talking to none other than Draco Malfoy, who was apparently smiling beside Hermione. At the sight of him, Draco's smile faded and Sirius turned around in his seat and flashed Harry one of his grins. Harry barely returned it and then moved around the desks to where Ron was now taking a seat at the front. Neville sat just behind the pair of them, and was soon joined by Seamus Finnigan. Once the rest of the class was inside, Sirius waved his wand to shut the door and then smiled at them all.

"Welcome to Defense against the Dark Arts, Black style," he said. Several students laughed lightly at this. "For those of you who don't know me," he paused, looking around the room briefly, "Ah, so that's most of you…anyway, I'm Sirius Black, and although you're all supposed to formally call me Professor Black, I'm fine with just Sirius."

"You are?" said Seamus, who looked like he couldn't believe his ears.

"Sure I am!" said Sirius, simply. "Although, you might not want to call me Sirius in front of your other teachers…like McGonagall…or Snape…" he shuddered, and at this, several of the students relaxed and some laughed again.

"Anyway," said Sirius, hopping onto his desk again, his wand still in hand. "I know the curriculum says that we're supposed to do a quiz today to review all that you've learned last year…well, that's what it says here anyway," he picked up a sheet on his desk and squinted his eyes at it before tossing it back. "But we're not gonna do that."

"We're not?" said Seamus.

Sirius frowned at him. "You sure like to question everything I say…"

Seamus grinned. "It's just…well, you're not at all what we expected."

The class nodded their agreement.

"I see," said Sirius. "And what did you all expect?" He paused. "No wait, let me guess…a fanged red-eyed vampire with gold teeth and long fingernails?"

Some of the girls in the class laughed nervously.

"I assure you, I won't bite," he said, smiling. "Now, we're supposed to start the term by learning the properties of…" he looked down at the sheet again and smirked, "…werewolves. Well, I dare say you already know a lot about them." The class nodded. Sirius paused before adding, quite casually, "Well I suppose I could call up my friend Remus Lupin and ask him to come and speak to you about werewolves, if you'd like."

"You know Professor Lupin?!" cried Lavender Brown. "He was our favourite teacher here!"

"Of course I know him!" said Sirius. "We've been best mates since we were here at school."

"Awe really?!" cried Dean Thomas.

The whole class looked interested now, and Sirius frowned pleasantly at this. "What, he's never told you lot about how cool his best friend is?"

More of the class laughed now.

"Okay so I suppose I should make you all take notes on something smart now," said Sirius, again consulting the list. He frowned at it and then looked up at them, confused. "Do you guys have those books that they made you buy?"

Everyone nodded and some students took out their copies of _The Essential Defense against the Dark Arts_ by Arsenius Jigger.

"Hmm," said Sirius, eyeing the books with pursed lips. "Okay well put those away."

The class looked round at each other excitedly and tossed the books back into their bags.

"Get up," said Sirius. "And take out your wands. I wanna teach you lot a spell today."

The class excitedly hurried out of their seats and moved aside as Sirius waved his wand and made the tables and chairs push to the very back of the classroom, making a huge chunk of space in the middle. Harry spotted Draco Malfoy with his Slytherin friends at the back. He looked positively ecstatic for what was to come, and for some strange reason, this annoyed Harry a great deal. He tried to focus on Sirius instead, but it still bothered him somewhere at the back of his head.

"Okay," Sirius clapped his hands once to gain everyone's attention. They watched him with excited eyes. Sirius waved his wand and a string of silvery blue light erupted from it and dashed at one of the desks at the back of the class. It wrapped around its legs like a sort of rope, and then, (Harry's eyes widened), Sirius pulled the desk back towards him as casually as ever. It scraped across the classroom and landed smoothly and spectacularly at his feet. Everyone gaped at him as the magical rope made of light disappeared from the end of his wand and he looked up at them expectedly.

"This is called the Seize and Pull Charm," he explained. "It's harder to perform than it looks because you've got to use a lot of force to pull the object towards you, especially if it's a heavy object." He paused, waiting for someone to say something. When no one did, he added awkwardly, "Um are there any questions?"

Hermione raised her hand.

"Professor—"

"Sirius, please," said Sirius.

Hermione gaped at him. "Uh, alright…um, what spell did you use to perform the charm? You didn't say anything."

"Oh right, my bad," said Sirius. "I'm used to doing non-verbal spells. Uh, right—the spell is _Carpe Retractum_." He paused. "You guys wanna repeat it?"

The class chanted "Carpe Retractum" and Sirius nodded his approval.

"Good!" He said. "Okay, um…well, I suppose for beginners, it's not the best idea to start with heavy objects." He paused, and then waved his wand again, causing several small objects to appear at the center of the room—ink bottles, old clocks, boxes and such. "Okay so if you all want to partner up with someone and grab an object, you can take turns holding the object and performing the spell."

Everyone quickly scrambled towards each other and then grabbed objects and moved to different spots in the classroom. Harry, Ron and Neville turned to each other and frowned.

"Um, we could do a three-way-group," said Ron, sheepishly.

"That's fine, you guys can partner," said Harry, who now spotted Hermione standing in the corner, looking rather hurt. Malfoy had partnered with some Slytherin boy.

"Come on, I'll work with you," Harry muttered to her while she watched Malfoy across the room.

She only nodded in response and grabbed an object so that they could practice. On the whole, the lesson was very good. Harry, Hermione, Ron and Neville all managed to perform the spell quite easily. Hermione though, spent the majority of the lesson watching some black-haired Slytherin girl who was practicing with a blonde-haired Slytherin girl, not too far from where Malfoy and his friend were practicing. Harry found this very annoying because he was just standing there with the clock in his hands, waiting for Hermione to snap out of it and perform the spell. It was very unlike her to be this unfocused.

At the bell, Harry waited for everyone to leave before he high-fived Sirius, who was looking rather pleased with himself.

"That went well, didn't it?" he kept saying as he waved his wand again and again, making the objects vanish and rearranging the tables and chairs like how they were before.

"Are you kidding? It was awesome!" Harry exclaimed. "Everyone really, really liked you."

Sirius beamed at him.

"What were you and Malfoy talking about in the beginning?" Harry blurted out, in a tone far less casual than intended.

Sirius looked up at him. "Just how his summer went and all that."

"I didn't know you guys talk," Harry mumbled.

"Sure we do," said Sirius. "Well, not that much, but just sometimes…here and there… uh, Harry, don't you have Transfiguration now? I don't want McGonagall mad at me because I kept you here."

"It's not for another five minutes," Harry told him. "Wait, you still call her McGonagall?"

"Hell yeah, I do," said Sirius. "She was my teacher once too, you know. I can't just go from years of tormenting her here to calling her Minerva in the staff room, now can I?"

Harry smirked.

"So when Moony was here," he said, moving closer to Sirius' desk, "We used to do Tuesday lunches. You know, every Tuesday, we met here in his office for lunch…just the two of us. You interested?"

"Yeah, that'd be nice. Hey listen, do you know what period Snape's third year Potions is?"

"Um, I'm not sure, I have Slughorn this year," said Harry. "W-why do you…?"

"Oh it's nothing, I just wanted to know. Hey, you need to go! Transfiguration is like on a whole other floor, I believe."

Sirius pointed at the clock on the wall and Harry nodded.

"Alright, alright, I'm going," he moved towards the door and then turned to look at Sirius again. "It was a _really_ good first class."

Sirius smiled. "Thanks, Harry."

"See you soon, _Professor_ Padfoot."

Sirius laughed.

Harry ended up being late to Transfiguration, as he knew he would be, and Professor McGonagall deducted 5 house points because of this. But Harry didn't care very much. Having Sirius at Hogsmeade had been cool enough, but now that he was right here, _inside_ Hogwarts…it was the best thing that could've happened, next to his own father actually coming to teach.

After Transfiguration came Charms and then it was lunchtime. Harry and Ron talked to Seamus and Dean for most of lunch, while Neville sat with Hermione, who was looking slightly agitated for whatever reason. After lunch, Harry, Ron and Neville went up to the common room to get their giant copies of the _Monster Book of Monsters_ (which they had all bound to keep from biting or growling) and headed out of the castle for their first ever Care of Magical Creatures lesson. As they made their way down the sloping lawns to Hagrid's hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Harry spotted a couple of Slytherins coming along the same path. He frowned at Ron.

"I didn't notice we had Creatures with the Slytherins, did you?"

Ron shook his head.

But at this point, it didn't really matter. They finally reached Hagrid's cabin, where he was waiting in his moleskin overcoat, with Fang the boarhound at his heels. The huge smile on his face pushed all the worry out of Harry's mind, and he waved back to him. Something told him it was going to be a really good class, even though Hagrid looked slightly nervous.

"Everyone gather 'round the fence here!" he called as the class approached. "That's it—make sure yeh can see—now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books—"

"How?" said the cold, drawling voice of one of the Slytherin boys up ahead.

Harry scowled at him. Blaise Zabini. He'd seen him around—always trailing after Draco Malfoy and his lot. Zabini loved to be the center of attention and that's why he always called teachers out on their mistakes.

"Eh?" said Hagrid, frowning at the boy.

"How do we open our books?" Zabini repeated. He took out his copy of _The Monster Book of Monsters_ and held it up so that Hagrid could see.

"Hasn'—hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" said Hagrid, looking crestfallen.

The class all shook their heads.

"We haven't received instructions!" Hermione called out from the crowd.

Several of the Gryffindors nodded at this.

"Well yeh've got ter _stroke_ 'em!" said Hagrid, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Look—"

He took Hermione's copy and ripped off the Spellotape that she had bound to it. The book tried to bite, but Hagrid ran a giant forefinger down its spine and the book shivered and then fell open and lay quiet in his hand.

"Oh, how silly we've all been!" Zabini sneered. "We should have _stroked_ them! Why didn't we guess!"

Beside him, Malfoy sniggered.

"Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off," Zabini continued, and a gang of Slytherins were now circled around him, laughing their heads off. Malfoy stood leaning against a tree, a smile on his face and his own copy of the _Monster Book of Monsters_ tucked safely under his arm. Harry watched Hermione move up to him but couldn't make out what they were saying now. All he knew was that Malfoy's smile instantly faded and he moved to stand next to his Slytherin friends, leaving Hermione looking flustered over by the tree.

"Righ' then," said Hagrid, "So, yeh've got yer books an' now yeh need the Magical Creatures!" He let out a nervous laugh. "Yeah. So I'll go an' get 'em. Hang on…" He strode away from them into the forest and out of sight.

Harry turned to Ron.

"He looks really nervous, doesn't he?"

"Yeah, but I'm sure it'll all be fine," said Neville, who was looking over the heads of students to see where Hagrid had gone off to.

"He's trying a little _too_ hard though, isn't he?" said Lavender Brown, who had moved up to where they were standing. "I mean, I'm not saying he's bad or anything—but maybe he ought to just let loose a bit."

"It's his first class, he's just nervous, that's all," Ron mumbled.

"That's not what _they_ seem to think," said Lavender, and when Harry, Ron and Neville gave her confused looks, she nodded in the direction of the Slytherins.

Blaise Zabini was now standing at the center of a group of laughing Slytherins, along with Draco Malfoy and some other boy Harry had seen always with them.

"I can't believe they're letting _him_ teach classes now!" Zabini was saying. "And we've already had werewolves…what'll it be next…vampires? Giant squids? Trolls even?"

"I really don't like him," Harry muttered through gritted teeth.

"Which one is he anyway?" said Neville.

"That's that Avery bloke," mumbled Ron. "He's _evil_."

"No that's the one on Malfoy's other side," Harry corrected. "The one that's showing off in the middle is called Blaise Zabini."

"Oooooh," said Ron, " _Him_."

"They're really trying hard," Neville observed, a sad look on his face.

"Yeah well they better not wreck Hagrid's first ever class with us or else—"

"Oooooooh!" squealed Lavender Brown, pointing toward the opposite side of the paddock.

Harry's voice trailed off and he turned just in time to see a dozen of the most bizarre creatures trotting toward them. They had the bodies, hind legs and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel, steel-colored beaks and large, brilliantly orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly looking. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all these were held in the vast hands of Hagrid, who came jogging into the paddock behind the creatures, looking mighty happy.

"Oy, gee up, there!" he roared, shaking the chains and urging the creatures toward the fence where the class stood. Everyone drew back slightly as Hagrid reached them and tethered the creatures to the fence.

"Hagrid!" cried Ron, looking bewildered. "Exactly what are those things?!"

"These are hippogriffs, Ron!" Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"

Harry could sort of see what Hagrid meant. Once you got over the first shock of seeing something that was half horse and half bird, you started to appreciate the hippogriffs' gleaming coats, changing smoothly from feather to hair, each of them a different color: stormy gray, bronze, pinkish roan, gleaming chestnut and inky black. Still, Harry wasn't sure this appreciation would be shared by the majority of the class, which looked as though they wished they could be anywhere else—even in Snape's Potions dungeon.

"So," said Hagrid, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, "If yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer—"

"Are you crazy?!" shrieked one Slytherin girl from the back.

The class turned to look at her and Harry frowned. He didn't think he'd ever seen her before, or if he had, he couldn't remember. She certainly knew how to make herself invisible most of the time, which was marvelous to Harry considering how many classes he'd already had with the Slytherins over the last two years. The girl was standing next to Malfoy and his lot. She had long dark hair and an outraged look on her face. Her arms were crossed in front of her and she was staring at the hippogriffs with the utmost disgust.

"They're not dangerous or anythin'!" said Hagrid, smiling brightly at her. "Firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' hippogriffs is, they're proud," He turned to the rest of the class now and ushered them to come closer to the fence. They slowly and cautiously did so. "They're easily offended, hippogriffs are. You do not want ter insult a hippogriff. It might just be the last thing yeh ever do."

Harry growled under his breath. He did not like where Hagrid was going with this.

"Yeh always wait fer the hippogriff ter make the firs' move," Hagrid continued. "It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him as quickly as yeh can. So, who wants ter go first?"

Most of the class backed farther away in answer. Even Harry, Ron and Neville had misgivings. The hippogriffs were tossing their fierce heads and flexing their powerful wings; they didn't seem to like being tethered like this.

"No one?" said Hagrid, with a pleading look.

Harry looked around and then sighed. "I'll do it, Hagrid."

"You crazy?!" Ron hissed in his ears.

"Harry!" Lavender whispered. Harry turned to look at her. "Be careful! They don't look as friendly as he claims they are."

"Maybe you should sit this one out, mate," said Ron, eyeing one of the hippogriffs nervously.

Harry ignored them and climbed over the paddock fence. He wasn't going to let anything ruin Hagrid's first ever lesson with him, or he knew that that would be the end of it. Hagrid was so proud to be teaching Harry, and so this _had_ to go well.

"Good man, Harry!" roared Hagrid happily. "Right then—let's see how yeh get on with this one. His name is Buckbeak."

He untied one of the chains, pulled the gray hippogriff away from its fellows, and slipped off its leather collar. The class on the other side of the paddock seemed to be holding its breath.

"Easy, now, Harry," said Hagrid quietly. "Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink…Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much…"

Harry's eyes immediately began to water, but he didn't shut them. Buckbeak had turned his great, sharp head and was now staring at Harry with one fierce orange eye.

"Tha's it," said Hagrid, softly. "Tha's it, Harry…now, bow…"

Harry did as he was told, and then he looked up. The hippogriff was still staring haughtily at him, and just when he was about to back away, the beast bent its scaly front knees and sank into what was an unmistakable bow.

"Ah, well done, Harry!" said Hagrid, ecstatic. "Right—yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!"

Feeling that a better reward would have been to back away, Harry moved slowly toward the hippogriff and reached out toward it. He patted the beak several times and the hippogriff closed its eyes lazily, as though enjoying it. Harry let out a small laugh.

"He's friendly!" he said.

Excitement broke among the Gryffindors now, and they were all eager to try it too. Feeling rather pleased with himself, Hagrid said, "Alrigh' then, off you go, everyone!"

Emboldened by Harry's success, the rest of the class climbed eagerly into the paddock. Hagrid untied the hippogriffs one by one, and soon people were bowing nervously all over the paddock. Ron ran repeatedly backward from his, which didn't seem to want to bend its knees. Neville took over with Buckbeak, while Harry hung back to watch. The Slytherins were not nearly as enthusiastic about the activity as the Gryffindors, but nevertheless, some of them participated. Malfoy, Harry noticed, remained hanging back by the tree with that dark-haired girl from before standing on one side of him, and Hermione on the other side. The three seemed to be arguing about something and Harry watched for several minutes as this went on, trying hard to understand why Hermione needed to associate herself with Slytherins all the time. It wasn't like she'd been sorted into their house and had no choice. On the contrary, she _had_ a choice, and he just couldn't understand hers.

"That was fun!" said Neville, who'd finished with Buckbeak and now joined on Harry's side. "You're right, they _are_ friendly."

"Not all of them," said Harry, smiling at Ron who was having a lot of trouble with his hippogriff. "I think that's just Buckbeak. The rest of them don't look too nice."

Hermione seemed to have convinced Malfoy and his friend to participate in the activity because the three of them now moved past Harry and Neville to go and work on Buckbeak. Hermione went first, and to no one's surprise, all went as smoothly as possible. When she was finished, she turned to edge Malfoy forwards. Harry watched as they exchanged a couple of hushed words and then the dark-haired girl cried out "Oh bloody hell, will you just leave us alone?!"

"No, I will not!" Hermione cried back.

Some of the class stopped to watch.

"It's none of your business so just leave!" said the dark-haired girl again. "Stop being such a nag!"

"Okay, easy," said Malfoy, seeing the bewildered look on Hermione's reddening face.

"Whoa," said Neville in an undertone. "What is up with _them_?"

"Dunno," shrugged Harry, also watching.

"Hey, so have you thought any more about going to Dumbledore?" Neville asked, suddenly. "Or to Sirius, or even writing to James or Lily..."

Harry turned his head to look at him, and it was a while before he realised that Neville was talking about their conversation from last night. "N-no, to be honest, I haven't thought about it at all."

"Well why not?"

"I dunno, Nev, maybe because it's only the first day and there's all these new classes and why are you hammering me about this now?"

Neville rolled his eyes and made to retaliate, but was interrupted by the dark-haired girl's piercing shriek.

"LOOK! I'm not gonna stand here and bow to some great ugly brute just so that it could bow back, OKAY?!"

It happened in a flash of steely talons; the girl let out a high-pitched scream and next moment, Hagrid was wrestling Buckbeak into his collar as he strained to get at the girl, who lay curled in the grass, blood blossoming over her robes and Malfoy crouched in front of her so that she was shielded from the beast's vision range.

"I _told_ you lot that he was crazy!" the girl shrieked, pointing maliciously at Hagrid, who had gone pale-faced.

"S-someone help me!" he called out, lifting the girl up easily. Hermione ran to hold open the gate and Hagrid and the girl disappeared through it, followed closely by Hermione and Malfoy.

As they passed, Harry saw that there was a long, deep gash on the girl's arm; blood splattered the grass and Hagrid ran with her up the slope toward the castle.

Very shaken, the Care of Magical Creatures class followed at a walk. The Slytherins were all shouting about Hagrid.

"They should fire him straight away!" said a cocky-looking girl with long blonde hair.

"It was Parkinson's fault!" snapped Dean Thomas. Crabbe and Goyle flexed their muscles threateningly, but he ignored them. They all climbed the stone steps into the deserted entrance hall.

The Slytherins, still muttering about Hagrid, headed away in the direction of their dungeon common room. Harry, Ron and Neville proceeded upstairs to Gryffindor Tower, while Hermione, Malfoy, and the blonde Slytherin girl ran after Hagrid and the dark-haired girl, no doubt to the hospital wing.

"Not exactly Hagrid's idea of a good first lesson, I'm sure," Neville commented as they walked.

Harry said nothing. There was a large lump stuck in his throat now, and his heart was positively racing. Whatever had happened today…well, it looked like this year was not going to be as good as he'd hoped.

He, Ron and Neville spent the rest of the day in their common room, hanging out by the fireplace. Dean and Seamus joined them briefly for a game of cards, and then it was time for dinner. Malfoy, Harry noticed, was not in the Great Hall that night, and as he looked around, he realised that neither was Hermione. The two were probably in the hospital wing with that Parkinson girl, though it surprised Harry a great deal that Hermione hadn't been kicked out.

"I'm sure it'll all be fine," Neville told him halfway through dinner, noticing Harry looking around nervously again. "We'll go and visit Hagrid this coming weekend and we'll find out if there's any news, okay?"

"They wouldn't sack him," said Ron, dismissively. "It's _Dumbledore_ who's Headmaster, you're forgetting!"

"He might not get sacked but the class might be canceled," said Harry, desperately. "I really don't want that to happen to him. Did you see the look on his face today when we first came? Did you see how happy he was?"

"Look Harry, it's really noble of you to always want everyone to be happy," began Neville, but he never finished because Hagrid entered the Great Hall at that moment, followed closely by Professor McGonagall. Hagrid, the trio noticed, was looking totally and completely distraught, and had a handkerchief in his hand as he made his way up to the staff table. They watched him exchange a few words with Dumbledore, and then the three professors exited the Great Hall together.

"What just happened?" said Harry, voicing everyone's thoughts at that table.

* * *

"SHE'S PRESSING CHARGES!"

Harry and Ron slowly lowered their cards and gaped at Hermione as she clambered in through the portrait hole and began pacing the length of the common room, cursing under her breath most uncharacteristically. Her eyes were puffed up and red, showing evidence that she had been off somewhere, crying.

"The foul—the evil—the stupid—filthy— _inconsiderate_ —"

"What do you mean 'she's pressing charges'?" Harry demanded, tossing his cards onto the coffee table in front of him.

Hermione stopped pacing just to look at him.

"I mean, _she's pressing charges_ ," she snapped. "She's going to write to her parents and have them file a complaint with the Ministry of Magic."

"She is?" said Neville, looking alarmed.

"But why would—"

"BECAUSE SHE'S EVIL!" Hermione bellowed over Ron, startling him. "She's only doing this to hurt Hagrid—she _knows_ how much it'll hurt him! And . . . a-and Draco's going to help her!"

"They can't do that to him!" cried Harry, also getting to his feet. "We have to do something."

"What?!" yelled Hermione, ignoring Neville shushing her. Harry stared at her. "Seriously, tell me what we could do, I'm all ears!"

"Is there anything we even can do?" said Neville in a small voice.

"Of course!" said Ron. Everyone turned to look at him. He stared at Hermione. "Go to the library. Consult a book. Isn't that your specialty or something…?"

"There may not be an answer there this time!" said Hermione, weakly.

"Of course there will be!" said Ron. "Lord, Hermione…you're really starting to lose it. I never thought I'd live to see the day when you'd turn down a visit to the _library_."

"Oh shut up, Ronald!" she hissed, resuming her pacing.

"Look, maybe we should just sleep on this," Harry suggested. When Hermione looked like she was about to protest, he quickly added, "We'll definitely do something—there's no question of it! I mean I'd personally like to see them just _try_ to have at him. Really, I _dare_ them to even try. But we should talk about this tomorrow. It's really late already."

"He's right," said Neville. "We can talk about it tomorrow early in the morning, before everyone else wakes up."

"Yeah and the less people know, the better," Harry agreed.

Hermione looked from one to the other and then nodded slowly.

"Where have you been all this time? It's not like you to be out past curfew…" Harry said after a moment's silence.

Hermione turned her head to wipe a tear so that none of them would notice.

"The girls' bathroom," she whispered.

"The one that crazy Moping Myrtle haunts?" said Ron, a disgusted look on his face.

"It's _Moaning_ Myrtle," sighed Neville. "Okay, I'm gonna turn in." He waved goodnight to the others and retreated up the steps to the dormitory.

Ron yawned loudly and made to follow. Hermione wiped her face on her sleeve again and moved to the corner of the room to collect her things which she'd left scattered. Harry stayed back, waiting until the others were gone, before he said, "Hermione."

She turned around to look at him.

"Why does this bother you so much? I didn't think you and Hagrid were that close."

Hermione gaped at him.

"I don't have to be close with him to care about what happens to him," she said.

Harry scoffed.

"What, you don't agree?" said Hermione, raising her eyebrows now.

"No, I agree, I just don't think that's the reason you're so upset," said Harry.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," he moved around her so that he had access to the spiral staircase, "That what bothers you the most about all of this is that Malfoy is defending Parkinson."

Hermione's mouth fell open.

"You don't care at all about Hagrid—you just don't want those two working together," Harry added. "Look, I'm not saying it to be mean! I'm just saying it like how it looks!"

"Whatever," said Hermione, stubbornly, and she waltzed by him with her books clattered in her hands and stomped up the staircase to the girls' dormitory, slamming the door behind her.

Harry sighed and made to return to his own when the door suddenly opened again and he looked round, expecting to see Hermione. But it wasn't her. Lavender Brown was standing there in her night robes, looking confused and sleepy.

"Oh, it's you," she said, finally spotting Harry.

"Yeah, we were just…" he said, but she nodded her understanding. Then, she glanced over her shoulder quickly and lowered her voice. "She's gotten a bit…rebellious this year…Hermione…hasn't she?"

Harry shrugged. "Wasn't she always?"

* * *

Thankfully, the rest of September was pretty uneventful. Potions lessons with Slughorn were the same as always—him paying Harry more attention than everyone else. Harry had to admit that this was starting to get really annoying. He made a mental note to write to his mother and ask her to maybe tell Slughorn to lay off a bit. Sirius' lessons were still everybody's favourite—even the Slytherins', and Harry was sure that this was largely because of Malfoy and whatever he must be telling his friends in their common room. Harry never mentioned the idea for Tuesday lunches again because Sirius seemed a bit too preoccupied to remember, and this definitely made Harry feel a bit edgy, but he nonetheless continued to keep a smile. Remus was right. It was not his place to tell Sirius what to do.

McGonagall's lessons were the same as always, and Binns' were as boring as ever. Divination, on the other hand, was something else. The teacher, Professor Trelawney, was quite possibly the most bizarre and boring teacher Harry had ever had the displeasure to meet. In fact, he swore that to have Binns all day would be far better than to her Trelawney for two hours every two or three days. Divination had turned out to be a really dull subject—all they did now was study how to read tea leaves. Harry seriously regretted taking the subject, and almost equally regretted arguing with his mother over taking this subject instead of Ancient Runes, whatever that was.

Hagrid's next couple of lessons, unfortunately, were not as enthusiastic as his first one had been. This was of course good and bad. At least there wouldn't be any more injuries. But still, Harry could tell that Hagrid had officially lost his enthusiasm for teaching the subject. And it was all Pansy Parkinson's fault.

She had left the hospital wing after just a day, but her arm was heavily bandaged now and everywhere she went, Malfoy seemed to be on her side. This was really annoying Hermione, who was always in a foul mood nowadays and who barely spoke to Malfoy at all, or so Harry could tell.

"D'you reckon I should even bother asking her for her History of Magic notes?" Ron whispered to Harry during one of their lessons, both of them eyeing Hermione who was glaring over at Malfoy and Parkinson at the back of the class.

"Not unless you want to be hexed," Harry responded in a whisper.

Quidditch was going well as usual. Wood was particularly enthusiastic about winning the Quidditch Cup this year, in light of Gryffindor's terrible loss last term. He held Gryffindor trials on the last week of September, and Ron was especially shocked when, to his and Harry's great surprise, Ginny turned up, clutching a school broom.

"What are you doing here?" Ron asked her, but Ginny only smiled brightly.

"I would think it'd be a bit obvious, Weasley," said Wood, who had finally arrived at the pitch, "Seeing as how she's holding a broom and everything."

Ron reddened instantly.

"Alright, everybody!" called Wood, turning everyone's attention to him. "We'll start with a few training exercises just to get a feel of our brooms before we get to the serious bits! Everyone, into the air!"

He mounted his broom and soared off, followed by the Weasley twins, Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson and several others of the already existing team. Those who had come to try out gave each other nervous looks before they followed suit. Ron turned back to Ginny.

"Seriously though," he said. "I didn't even know you wanted to try out. When did you come up with this idea?"

"When Harry told me to," said Ginny, simply.

Ron looked round at him for confirmation, and Harry nodded.

"Weasley! Potter! In the air!" Wood bellowed at them from near the goal hoops.

Harry and Ron obeyed, and soon, Ginny was flying just behind them. Wood approached Harry.

"Why don't you just practice with the snitch for now? I have no interest in replacing you—I'm only here to find new chasers."

"Okay," Harry told him.

For the first little while, he actually practiced with the snitch. But once he'd gotten accustomed to it again, he hung back near one of the goal hoops, where he could watch the trials with a clear view. At first, Ginny was quite shy with her flying, and everyone could tell. She was hesitant about taking risks or any initiative at all. However, once Fred and George began teasing her about embarrassing the Weasley family name, something seemed to have clicked inside Ginny, and she took to revenge at once. She zoomed by players in twists and turns, using her small size to her advantage. Harry was most impressed, considering how lousy the school broom that she was using actually was. And, judging by Wood's yells, he was impressed too.

"Excellent work, everyone!" he cried, beaming, as the players all hit the ground at the end of the tryouts.

Harry did not need to hear Wood confirm it to know that it was true. Once Ginny's name was announced as making the team, both Harry and Ron dived to pick her up on their shoulders. She laughed and shrieked in exhilaration as they carried her all the way back to the castle and up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower. By the time the rest of the team got back, the celebration party was already underway. Fred and George provided the butterbeer (though Harry was not quite sure how they'd managed to get to the village and back without getting caught, but he made a mental note to ask them afterwards). Ginny was completely overjoyed at all the attention that she was getting for once. According to Ron, she and him had always been the underdogs of the family, being the youngest and all.

"What is going on here? What is this?" cried Percy, who ran down from his dormitory in pajamas, completely outraged at all the noise.

"Ginny's made the team," said Ron, simply.

"I don't care if she's made the team! It's already 1 o'clock in the morning! Come on everyone, go to bed. Come along! Move it!"

"Perce, let her be, go on," Ron whined, but Percy did not hear him and went on with trying to get students to go to bed.

Unfortunately for him, no one was listening. He rounded on Ron instead.

"Get her to bed!" he hissed. "Or I'll write to mum!"

And he left.

Ron turned to Harry and rolled his eyes. They both glanced at Ginny again, who was laughing with a large group of girls now.

"Should we tell her then?" said Ron, smiling sadly.

"Nah," said Harry, laughing as Fred and George high-fived Ginny. "Let her enjoy this."

* * *

 _Draco_

* * *

 _...The thought of being taught defense against the dark arts by Sirius—the thought of being able to bump into him at any point…made Draco smile happily. Who knew that Hogwarts could get a hundred times better, simply within a matter of hours?_

 _And as Draco drifted off to sleep, he found himself thinking…once, just this once, it felt really, really good to be proven wrong by Hermione Granger..._

* * *

Draco awoke the next morning feeling totally and completely refreshed and ready to go. It was the first time he'd ever felt that way on the first day of school. He was actually _excited_ for classes—well, one in particular, but it didn't matter much if he had to sit through the others. Now that Sirius was here at school, everything was going to be loads better.

Draco dressed with the other boys in the dormitory and went down to breakfast with a certain air of happiness. Even Blaise and Avery noticed that he was walking differently and holding his head up differently than he normally did on the first day. What was usually a day full of sulking because once again he was in Slytherin and Hermione was in Gryffindor became a day of anticipation and excitement.

"We have Snape! Yes!" cried Blaise once he'd gotten his timetable.

"We do?!" said Draco.

Blaise thrust the timetable in front of him and, sure enough, Snape's name was printed right next to Potions on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, which the Slytherins were to have with the Hufflepuffs. So he was going to have Snape _and_ Sirius in the same year…this was shaping up to be a very good start of his third year.

After hurrying through his breakfast, Draco ditched his friends to go and meet up with Hermione in the Entrance Hall (she had requested so last night). There, they compared schedules and concluded that they had Defense, Transfiguration, Charms and Care of Magical Creatures together. Hermione was also taking a bunch of classes that Draco had never even heard of, and he stared at her as she waved her timetable in front of him and babbled excitedly about how wonderful it was all going to be.

"But when are you gonna find time to…you know…breathe and all that?" he asked her.

"Oh I'll manage fine," she said, dismissively. "I can't wait until Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. Should be really fascinating!"

"You're not taking Divination?" said Draco, examining her timetable again and frowning.

"Yeah, I'm not really interested in it," she said, shrugging.

"How come?"

"Well I bumped into Dumbledore some point last year and we had a little talk and he let it slip that he never really liked the subject much and then I went to the library and did a bit of research and I asked around and some older students told me about the subject and the teacher and—"

"What about the teacher?" Draco interrupted.

Hermione forced a little smile. "Oh, it's nothing! I'm sure she's lovely. Well, I've never met her myself. But it's just not a popular subject at Hogwarts and I think I could put my time to better use…like Arithmancy!"

"Or Ancient Runes," said Draco, nodding at her timetable, "Or Creatures or Herbology or Potions…"

"Hey! Those are all mandatory!" cried Hermione.

"Not Ancient Runes," said Draco, passing her back her timetable. He was just about to suggest they head to Sirius' classroom already (he wanted to get there first) when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He turned around on the stairs and frowned. Pansy Parkinson was standing over him, with her long black hair touching her elbows and her schoolbag hung over her shoulder. She was accompanied by that blonde Regina Rickford girl.

"Snape is looking for you," Pansy told Draco.

"Did he say why?" Draco wondered, getting to his feet.

"I didn't stick around to ask him," she said, moving past him to get to the Great Hall. Hermione opened her mouth to say something—no doubt to introduce herself—but Pansy and Regina were already gone. Hermione and Draco both stared after them.

"I'll just go find Snape after—I wanna see Sirius first," Draco mumbled.

"Which one is she again?" said Hermione, still staring after Pansy. "I've seen her before."

"Her name's Pansy," said Draco.

"She was kind of rude," Hermione observed as they made for the Defense classroom on the second floor. "I mean, she hadn't thought to ask Snape why he needed to see you?"

Draco scoffed.

"What?" said Hermione. "I'm just saying…if you're a little nicer to people, they're nice back to you."

"That's not the way it works in Slytherin," Draco contradicted as they turned the corner. "She was talking to me just like any other Slytherin would. It's just the way we are."

Hermione said nothing.

They finally found the Defense classroom and Draco let himself in without knocking. Sirius was sitting on top of the teacher's desk when they entered, and when he turned around to face them, they found that he was holding a sheet in his hand.

"Draco!" he said, brightly, tossing the sheet back onto the desk and hopping off. He moved across the room and shook Draco's hand. "How are you?"

"To be honest, a little shocked that you didn't tell me!" Draco admitted.

Sirius smiled.

"I thought I ought to surprise you."

"I don't like surprises," Draco added, quietly. He then noticed Sirius' eyes shift to Hermione and cleared his throat. "Oh yeah, this is my friend Hermione."

"Hermione Granger, sir," said Hermione, reaching to shake his hand.

"Nice to see you, Hermione," said Sirius. "Harry's told me about you."

" _He has?!_ " said Draco and Hermione together.

Sirius laughed, before he grew serious again. "So that train ride..."

"Yeah," said Draco, nodding.

"You guys...didn't...get hurt or anything...did you?" said Sirius. "I tried to find you but I wasn't sure which compartment you were in."

"Wait, you were on the train too?!" cried Draco. "Dammit, you don't tell me anything!"

"Sorry," said Sirius, smiling apologetically. "Like I said, I wanted to surprise you when we already got here. I just never imagined that the Dementors would be paying a little visit on the way too."

"I don't bloody like surprises," Draco muttered through gritted teeth.

Sirius frowned at him, but with a hint of a smile still.

"What?" said Draco.

"Bloody? Dammit?" said Sirius, still smiling. "You're sounding more and more like me, you know that?"

Draco grinned.

Sirius laughed. "So do either of you have any idea how I should start the class? Any tips? Pointers? Worst things I could possibly do on a first day?"

"Um," said Hermione, glancing sideways at Draco. "Perhaps you could take a look at the curriculum sheet?"

"Yeah, I've had a look at it already," said Sirius, frowning at the sheet on his desk again. "It sounds like a load of rubbish."

Draco's smile broadened. "Well look, whatever you teach us is gonna be great no matter what. Just make sure you don't confuse students' names. We hate that."

"Yeah and maybe start off by introducing yourself and telling us a little bit about why you started teaching," Hermione added, thoughtfully.

"But you also don't want to babble too much," Draco contradicted. "Nothing kills a first class like a teacher going on about 'back in my day'…"

"Hey, I'm not that old!" said Sirius, suddenly.

Draco laughed. Just then, the bell rang and the door to the classroom flew open. Potter and Weasley were standing there, both of them looking bewildered as Sirius spun around on the desk to face them. Potter gave him a weak smile and then was pushed into the classroom by the noisy crowd of Gryffindors and Slytherins that were now making their way in. Draco gave Sirius a last smile and then moved to the back of the classroom, where Avery was waiting for him. Hermione remained at the front, as always. Sirius waited until everyone was settled down—some students have even taken their books out—before he waved his wand to shut the door and turned to face them.

"Welcome to Defense against the Dark Arts, Black style," he said. Several students laughed lightly at this. "For those of you who don't know me," he paused, looking around the room briefly, "Ah, so that's most of you…anyway, I'm Sirius Black, and although you're all supposed to formally call me Professor Black, I'm fine with just Sirius."

"Niiiiice!" Avery howled in Draco's ear.

Draco grinned at him. He just _knew_ Sirius would be this cool as a teacher. He caught Hermione's eye and she smiled at him. She was also clearly enjoying herself very much. How could anybody not?

"…although, you might not want to call me Sirius in front of your other teachers. . ." Sirius continued to the tune of the students' light laughter, ". . . Like McGonagall . . . or Snape . . ." The laughter continued, but Draco only smiled this time.

Personally, he found that people hardly ever understood Sev, which really sucked because he was one of the best people Draco knew. He'd been telling Hermione so for about two years now, but she nevertheless maintained her view that Snape should be approached cautiously. But Draco was also not about to give Sirius any grief about it. After all, he knew all about the problems that Sirius and Sev had with each other when they were at school. And as far as Draco was concerned, Potter's father was to blame for this completely.

"It's just you're not at all what we expected," said Seamus Finnigan, who was sitting up at the front of the classroom.

"And what did you all expect?" said Sirius, who was now smirking. "No wait, let me guess…a fanged red-eyed vampire with gold teeth and long fingernails?" There was laughter. "I assure you, I won't bite." He then consulted the sheet on his desk and frowned at it. Draco watched him intently, wondering.

How could his mother have hated growing up with such a cool person? On some level, Sirius behaved himself as though he was still at school…and that was part of the reason why Draco admired him so much. He really knew how to talk to someone young and not make them feel like they were being analysed or evaluated. None of the teachers at this school knew how to do that. They always reminded students that they were young and unwise and inexperienced. Well, Sev never did that, but he also wasn't one to talk much. He preferred to sit in the peace and quiet of his office and not be bothered by 'annoying, petty teenagers'.

"Everyone, get up!" said Sirius suddenly. "And take out your wands. I wanna teach you lot a spell today."

The class hurried out of their seats and moved aside as Sirius waved his wand and made the tables and chairs push to the very back of the classroom, making a huge chunk of space in the middle. Draco pulled his wand out and beamed as he waited for what was to come. Surely . . . they had _never_ . . . he couldn't remember a single time when they had started out the first day with the instructions 'put away your books and take out your wands'. First day was usually all about understanding what the course expectations were, and all that sort of rubbish.

"Okay," said Sirius, clapping his hands to gain everyone's attention. Draco noticed that even Blaise, who was one for sleeping in class, looked amused. They watched as Sirius waved his wand and a string of silvery blue light erupted from it and dashed at one of the desks at the back. It wrapped round its legs like a sort of rope, and then, Sirius pulled the desk back towards him as casually as ever. It craped across the classroom and landed smoothly and spectacularly at his feet. Everyone gaped at him as the magical rope made of light disappeared from the end of his wand and he looked up at them, beaming.

"This is called the Seize and Pull Charm," he explained. "It's harder to perform than it looks because you've got to use a lot of force to pull the object towards you, especially if it's a heavy object. Any questions?"

Hermione raised her hand.

"Professor—"

"Sirius, please," said Sirius.

Hermione gaped at him. "Uh, alright . . . um, what spell did you use to perform the charm? You didn't say anything."

"Oh right, my bad," said Sirius. "I'm used to doing non-verbal spells. Right—the spell is _Carpe Retractum_."

Sirius then waved his wand again, causing several small objects to appear at the center of the room—ink bottles, old clocks, boxes, and such. "Okay, so if you all want to partner up with someone and grab an object, you can take turns holding the object and performing the spell. Off you go."

Blaise instantly grabbed the first clock he could find and pulled Draco to the side, while Crabbe and Goyle partnered together and Avery went with this other kid that Draco hadn't really gotten around to talking to yet—Theodore something…

The spell was fairly easy to perform, and Draco timed himself perfectly so that he was performing the spell just as Sirius was walking by. Sirius gave him a thumbs-up and went to check out another pair, and Draco grinned at Blaise.

"Okay, okay, so you've proven you're a dueling genius," said Blaise, laughing. "Can I have a go now?"

"No, not yet," said Draco, who tossed him back the clock and performed the spell again. This was just too much fun.

After the lesson, Draco meant to go and talk to Sirius again, but as the classroom slowly emptied, he noticed that Potter was standing near the teacher's desk, apparently waiting for everyone to leave. Draco hesitated before following Blaise and Avery out the door. Well, it was only fair…he'd had a chance to talk to Sirius before class so if Potter wanted to talk to him after class, there wasn't much Draco could do.

Still, it bothered him. Potter had had his entire life to be with Sirius…there were so many memories that they shared—so many inside jokes between the two of them, whereas Draco and Sirius only had a handful of conversations and two or three letters. Turning the corner with Blaise and Avery to McGonagall's Transfiguration classroom, Draco found himself thinking…he and Potter had set a truce last year. What was stopping them from getting right back into competition, now that Sirius was at school with them?

After Transfiguration was Charms, and then it was time for lunch. Draco listened to Avery rant about Quidditch while they ate. Blaise had stayed behind in McGonagall's classroom because he'd been disruptive and she was probably either lecturing him now or giving him a detention. Crabbe and Goyle were eating at an alarming speed, though Draco couldn't blame them. He himself had forgotten how amazing Hogwarts food could be, and wasted no time at filling his plate to the fullest.

"Hmm, what do we have next?" said Avery, who'd finally finished his rant.

Draco pulled out his timetable and groaned. "Care of Magical Creatures."

"Right, with that oaf…" said Avery, who also looked disappointed. "Wonder what _that'll_ be like…"

"Probably something stupid," said Blaise, who'd finally joined their table.

"Jeez, that was long," said Avery. "What'd she do to you?"

"Nah, it's nothing, just a detention," said Blaise, who hungrily bit into a turkey leg and pulled the salad bowl towards him.

"Well you'd better hurry up, class starts in ten minutes," said Draco, watching him. "And we still have to get there. Where are we supposed to go again?"

"The oaf's hut, I think," said Avery.

Two seats away from him, Pansy Parkinson scoffed. Avery turned to her with a raised eyebrow. "What? You don't think he's an oaf?"

"Oh I think he's an oaf alright," said Pansy, simply. "I just can't believe Dumbledore's got that oaf teaching us classes now."

Draco laughed at this. She had a point there. He'd never liked Hagrid and he'd always thought it was a bit weird that Dumbledore was letting this half-giant or whatever he was hang around the school all the time. It was a bit sad actually.

"Guess we should go then," said Avery after a moment's silence.

"Don't worry too much about it," Blaise assured him then. "I'll make it a fun class. You'll see."

"What are you gonna do, run around naked?" said Avery.

He and Draco laughed, while Blaise frowned.

"Okay, don't get any ideas there, Zabini," said Draco, suddenly.

They waited a few more seconds, but the first warning bell was inevitable, and so they were forced to get up from their seats and exit the Great Hall. As they made their way down the sloping lawns to where Hagrid' hut was situated on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Blaise said, "Have any of you guys been able to get these stupid books opened?"

He pulled out his copy of _The Monster Book of Monsters_ , which he'd bound with Spellotape, and stared at it with disgust.

Avery shook his head. "Mine tried to bite my hand off over the summer."

"Yeah, mine too," said Blaise. "Good thing my mother came up with the Spellotape idea."

"Yeah, Spellotape is not going to work for that much longer," said Avery. "It's not strong enough."

"Sure it is!"

"No it isn't!"

"Uh, it's _Spellotape_ , I think it is."

While they went on bickering, Pansy Parkinson caught up with Draco who was walking just behind them. He looked up at her, waiting for her to say something, but when she didn't, he said, "Are you following me or something?"

"Following you?" she said. "Oh please, don't flatter yourself."

"Well then can I help you?"

She frowned. "Yes, as a matter of fact, you _can_ help me with something, actually." Draco waited. "Tell that git friend of yours," she pointed at Blaise's back, "to stop hitting on me, alright? It's creepy."

Draco let out a laugh. "Blaise is anything but creepy. If he's hitting on you, it's probably because he's only just realised that you're a girl."

Pansy pursed her lips at this. Then, she looked at Draco as they stopped just in front of the hut which was gathered with a bunch of Gryffindors. "Well did you realise sooner than he did?"

"Me?" said Draco. "Yeah, of course! I'm not blind…unlike Blaise."

"Unlike Blaise," laughed Pansy.

"Everyone gather 'round the fence here!" Hagrid called. "That's it—make sure yeh can see—now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books—"

"How?" Blaise interrupted.

"Eh?" said Hagrid, frowning at him.

"How do we open our books?" Blaise repeated. He held up his copy of _The Monster Book of Monsters_ so that Hagrid could see.

"Hasn'—hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" said Hagrid, looking crestfallen.

The class all shook their heads.

"We haven't received instructions!" Hermione called out from the crowd.

Hagrid looked around again.

"Well yeh've got ter _stroke_ 'em!" he said, as thought his was the most obvious thing in the world. "Look—"

He took Hermione's copy and ripped off the Spellotape that she had bound to it. The book tried to bite, but Hagrid ran a giant forefinger down its spine and the book shivered and then fell open and lay quiet in his hand.

"Oh, how silly we've all been!" Blaise sneered. "We should have _stroked_ them! Why didn't we guess!"

Draco sniggered. Blaise sure hadn't been lying about making the lesson more fun than it clearly wasn't.

"Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off," Blaise continued, and a group of Slytherins in their year now circled around him, laughing their heads off. Draco stood leaning against a tree, a smile on his face and his own copy of _The Monster Book of Monsters_ tucked safely under his arm. Pansy was standing not too far from him, and she looked like she was about to say something, when Hermione suddenly turned up.

"Hi!" she exclaimed.

"Hey there," said Draco. "How you doing?"

"Not too bad," said Hermione. "D'you know…I actually really liked Professor Black's class."

"It's _Sirius_ , Hermione," said Draco.

"Well yeah," she said, dismissively. "Anyway, I think he's going to be a really good teacher."

"He already is a really good teacher."

"Oh!" said Hermione, finally noticing Pansy. "Hi!" she held out her arm. "I'm Hermione Granger. And you are?"

Pansy stared at the hand stretched out for a few seconds before she gave Hermione what was undoubtedly a fake smile. "Pansy Parkinson."

"Pleased to meet you!" said Hermione, lowering her hand only after she realised that Pansy wasn't going to shake it. When Pansy looked away, Hermione's smile faded and she turned to Draco. "Is she a friend of yours too?"

"Not really," Draco admitted. "But I appreciate you trying to get to know my fellow Slytherins."

"Well, it couldn't hurt," said Hermione, slowly. "But you will have to get to know my fellow Gryffindors…you know, it's only fair."

At this, Draco's smile faded. "And who did you exactly mean?"

"Oh I don't know," said Hermione, shrugging.

"Sure you do," Draco contradicted. She looked up at him. "Come on, spit it out."

Hermione bit her lip. "Well, there's Neville, for one."

"We've already gotten to know each other," said Draco.

"No you haven't!" laughed Hermione.

"Sure we have!" said Draco. "He's Neville Longbottom. He's in Gryffindor and he has a toad named Trevor. What else is there to know?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Come on, you can't be serious. Um, for example, he's really good at Herbology. Bet you didn't know that, did you? You know, there's plenty more to people than their name, house and pet. There's plenty more to _you!_ Just like there's plenty more to me!"

"You're Hermione Granger, you're in Gryffindor and you like books!" Draco blurted out, before he could stop himself.

Hermione stared at him. "Books?" she repeated. "That's all you see when you think of me? Books?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that," said Draco, quickly, but Hermione still looked hurt. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Pansy wasn't listening, before he leaned in to whisper, "I'm just not very keen on hanging around with a bunch of Gryffindors, if you don't mind."

And then, without another word, he moved to stand beside Blaise and Avery.

"Righ' then," said Hagrid, "So yeh've got yer books an' now yeh need the Magical Creatures!" He let out a nervous laugh. "Yeah. So I'll go an' get 'em. Hang on…" He strode away from them into the forest and out of sight.

"Well that was professional," Avery muttered.

Draco nodded.

Then, Blaise moved to the center of the group of Slytherins again. "I can't believe they're letting _him_ teach classes now!" he called out. "And we've already had werewolves…what'll it be next…vampires? Giant squids? Trolls, even?"

"I swear, Dumbledore's getting stupider by the minute," said that Theodore boy whose name Draco always found a hard time placing.

"Well, he _is_ old…" said Millicent Bulstrode.

The Slytherins laughed at this, and then, there was a squeal from somewhere in the back. They all turned their heads and found a Gryffindor girl pointing excitedly behind them. So they turned back around. And that's when they saw them.

Perhaps a dozen or more of the most bizarre creatures were trotting towards them. They had the bodies, hind legs and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel, steel-colored beaks and large, brilliantly orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly looking. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all these were held in the vast hands of Hagrid, who came jogging into the paddock behind the creatures, looking stupidly happy.

"Oy, gee up, there!" he roared, shaking the chains and urging the creatures toward the fence where the class stood. Everyone drew back slightly as Hagrid reached them and tethered the creatures to the fence.

"Hagrid!" cried Weasley from somewhere up front. "Exactly what are those things?!"

"These are hippogriffs, Ron!" Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"

"Oh, _sure!"_ said Blaise, and even Draco chuckled at his sarcasm. He knew he agreed though. Those creatures looked nothing _remotely close_ to beautiful. And Draco knew that many of his classmates agreed because they all looked like they wished they could be anywhere else instead of here. This really was a pointless class.

"So," said Hagrid, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, "If yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer—"

"Are you crazy?!" shrieked Pansy from the Slytherin crowd.

Everyone looked round at her. Draco moved so that he could see her. Well, she certainly didn't look frightened, but more horrified with a mixture of disgusted.

"They're not dangerous or anythin'!" said Hagrid, still smiling brightly. "Firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' hippogriffs is, they're proud," He turned to the rest of the class now and ushered them to come closer to the fence. They slowly and cautiously did so. "They're easily offended, hippogriffs are. You do not want ter insult a hippogriff. It might just be the last thing yeh ever do."

"What the fuck!" Avery hissed into Draco's ear. "What are we learning?!"

Draco smirked.

"Yeh always wait fer the hippogriff ter make the firs' move," Hagrid continued. "It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him as quickly as yeh can. So, who wants ter go first?"

Most of the class backed farther away in answer. The hippogriffs were tossing their fierce heads and flexing their powerful wings; they didn't seem to like being tethered like this.

"No one?" said Hagrid, with a pleading look.

"I'll do it!" called Potter suddenly.

Blaise let out a bark-like laugh. "Well _of course_ Itty-Bitty Potter will do it!"

But only the Slytherins seemed to have heard this because the Gryffindors were a bit too preoccupied with staring at the hippogriff creatures. Only Hermione was staring at Blaise with a frown on her face.

"Good man, Harry!" roared Hagrid happily as Potter climbed over the paddock fence. "Right then—let's see how yeh get on with this one. His name is Buckbeak."

"He _names_ them?!" Draco hissed.

Avery laughed. "Crazy git."

"Hey, that's not very nice!" said Hermione, who had moved back to where they were standing. Avery's smile faded instantly and he looked away from her.

"Hey there, Granger," said Blaise, finally noticing her. "Long time no see!"

"Yep! A whole day, Zabini!" she said, sarcastically.

"You can call me Blaise," he told her, thoroughly ignoring the sarcasm.

"And _you_ can call me Hermione!" said Hermione.

Draco laughed. She'd really have to learn how to talk to his friends if she wanted them to accept her. But Blaise only laughed at this too, and then they all turned back to watch Potter bow before the hippogriff called Buckbeak. To everyone's astonishment, the beast bowed back, and Hagrid went ecstatic.

"Ah, well done, Harry! Right—yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!"

Potter slowly and cautiously moved towards the hippogriff, pausing every now and then, as though for dramatic effect. Draco leaned against the tree again. It was amazing how he could go from such an amazing class in the morning to two mediocre ones to such a dull lesson as this. Finally, Potter touched the hippogriff's beak and cried "he's friendly!"

Excitement broke among the Gryffindors now, and they were all eager to try it too. The Slytherins however, hung back, none of them too enthusiastic about doing this particular activity.

"Alrigh' then, off you go, everyone!" Hagrid called out.

The rest of the class climbed into the paddock and soon, people were bowing nervously all over the paddock. Draco remained over by the tree with Pansy, and to his great surprise, Hermione remained with them too.

"Aren't you gonna go do the activity?" Draco asked her.

"When a hippogriff frees up," she promised. "Are _you_ gonna do the activity?"

Draco shrugged. They watched as their classmates bowed before the various hippogriffs that then proceeded to bow back. Some of the students were having problems with getting their hippogriffs' attention, while others did it smoothly.

"You know," said Hermione, casually. "If you're not keen on hanging around Gryffindors that much, then I'm not sure that I'm keen on hanging round with Slytherins."

Draco glanced sideways at Pansy, who was now busy talking to that blonde Regina Rickford girl, before answering Hermione in a really low voice.

"That's not fair," he said.

"Is it?"

"You've no idea what Slytherin is like," said Draco, lowering his voice still more. "People there are judgmental. You Gryffindors are different—you easily forgive and forget. In Slytherin, things work differently." He paused. "You wouldn't survive there for an hour."

Hermione bit her lip again.

"That's just the way it is," Draco added. "And then, I'm not forcing you to do anything. You rode the train with us yesterday and you had no complaints. If you chose not to hang around us, that'd be your decision."

"Okay, you're right," Hermione admitted. Draco glanced at her. "I'm sorry. I'm just…well, I think it'd be really nice if the two houses got along more."

"Yes, but that's very unlikely to happen anytime soon," said Pansy suddenly, making Hermione jump.

Her friend Regina went to join Blaise's side, as he now made an attempt to bow—a very lousy attempt, in Draco's opinion.

"Slytherin and Gryffindor will always be enemies," Pansy continued.

"She's right," Draco nodded. "Look Hermione, we didn't make the rules. It's just the way it's been for thousands of years."

"Stupid way," Hermione muttered, her eyes on the hippogriffs. "Oh look, that one's free! Let's go and have a try?"

"Um, no thank you," said Pansy, quickly, backing away two steps.

"Why, you scared or somethin'?" said Draco, cocking an eyebrow at her.

She scowled at him. " _No_ , not scared… Just not keen on bowing to that ugly old thing, that's all."

"Oh come on!" cried Hermione. "He's really beautiful! And they're friendly, you'll love them! Come on!"

Draco could not believe his eyes when Hermione actually grabbed Pansy's arm and pulled her towards the hippogriff that Potter had practiced on earlier. Hermione let go of Pansy's arm and took a deep breath before moving forwards to give her bow to the beast. Seconds later, the beast was bowing back to her—to no one's surprise. Still, Hermione clapped her hands in excitement and turned to look at Draco and Pansy.

"Right then, who wants to go next? Pansy? Draco?"

" _I said_ , no thanks," said Pansy, quite irritably.

Hermione's smile faded. "It's a required activity from today's class and besides, it won't take you very long."

"That's fine," said Pansy, crossing her arms again. "I'll just say Hagrid didn't explain it well, that's all."

"But he did," said Hermione, slowly. "He explained it _very_ well—look!"

They turned their heads to watch as their fellow classmates bowed in various areas of the paddock. Then, Pansy turned back to Hermione.

"I really don't like being pestered like this," she pointed out. "I've said no and I meant it."

Hermione, ignoring her, turned to Draco, her eyebrows raised.

"What?" he said after a moment's silence.

"Aren't you going to do the assignment?" said Hermione.

"Yeah," said Pansy, turning to look at Draco with her own eyebrows raised. "Aren't you, _Draco_?"

"I dunno," said Draco, shrugging. His eyes landed on the hippogriff in front of him. "I don't really want to."

"But you have to!" said Hermione. "It's a requirement for this class. And besides, Hagrid will feel really bad if you don't even want to try it!"

"Who cares?" said Pansy, incredulously. "Honestly, why do you like him so much, Gladys?"

"It's _Granger_ ," said Hermione, irritably. She turned back to Draco. "Aren't you gonna say something?"

Draco stared at her. "Am I supposed to?"

"YEAH!" cried Hermione, looking positively flustered at this point. "You always defend your Slytherins, why not defend your _best friend_ for a change?!"

"Oh bloody hell, will you just leave us alone already?!" cried Pansy.

"No, I will not!" Hermione shouted back.

At this point, most of the students paused their activities and were now watching the two girls intently.

"Look, it's none of your business what he does so just leave!" said Pansy again. "Stop being such a nag!"

"Okay, easy," said Draco, in a low voice, but he wasn't sure the girls had heard him. Hermione's face was completely red with fury now.

"If you Slytherins were a little nicer to everyone around you," said Hermione, through gritted teeth, "You wouldn't have so many problems with all the other houses here. If you just swallowed your pride and went along with this activity, _no matter how stupid you might think it is_ , you would make a whole ton of people's lives a lot easier just this afternoon—"

"LOOK!" shrieked Pansy, who was now just as angry as Hermione. "I'm not gonna stand here and bow to some great ugly brute just so that it could bow back, OKAY?!"

And just then, the hippogriff just behind Hermione let out a sort of growl while Hermione—or maybe it was Pansy—shrieked madly. Next moment, Hagrid was wrestling the hippogriff into his collar as he strained to get at Pansy, who lay curled in the grass, blood blossoming over her robes with Draco crouched in front of her. He had no idea what had just happened, but all he knew was that he'd heard screams and had thrown himself at someone in all the commotion.

"I _told_ you lot that he was crazy!" Pansy shrieked from underneath him, pointing maliciously at Hagrid, who had gone pale-faced.

Panicked, Draco slid off of her and Hagrid swiped in front of him and picked her up easily.

"S-someone help me!" he called out. Hermione ran to hold open the gate and Hagrid disappeared through it with Pansy, followed closely by Draco, Regina, and Hermione.

* * *

"Are you sure there isn't anything—?"

"No, there isn't," snapped Pansy, her eyes glaring at Hermione who stood at the foot of her bed. "Look, just go, okay?"

"I'm sorry!" Hermione whispered. "But _surely_ you can understand that it wasn't my fault…"

"I _understand_ ," said Pansy, looking thoroughly irritated now. "But I would very much _appreciate_ it if you could _please_ leave . . . _right now_."

"Come on, I'll walk you out," Draco muttered, pulling Hermione away before she could do any damage.

When he closed the doors behind him, he turned to find Hermione sitting on the steps with her head in her hands. Draco tried to walk over to her, but his feet kept him rooted to the spot for some reason. He looked down at the ground, his hands in his pockets. Hermione looked up and took a deep breath before she spoke in a barely audible voice.

" _Please_ tell me you can fix this."

"I don't know if I can."

"Don't know if you can or don't know if you want to?" said Hermione.

Draco looked up at her.

"You _know_ how much it'll hurt him if she does it," she whispered.

"It's none of my business," said Draco.

"And that's why you're gonna help her?!" cried Hermione, suddenly jumping to her feet and moving towards him.

"I didn't say I was gonna—"

"You _totally_ defended her in there!" she shouted. "You didn't care at all what she was saying! What she was promising she'd do! All you care about is your stupid Slytherin pride and your—"

"STOP IT!"

"—NO, I'M NOT GONNA STOP IT!" she bellowed. "I WANT YOU TO THINK ABOUT THIS!"

"I HAVE!" Draco yelled back. "And you know what, Hermione? The bloody hippogriff deserves it!"

Hermione stared at him with a frightened expression.

"You don't mean that," she whimpered.

"Oh I do," Draco promised. When he saw the tear trickle down her cheek, he sighed and looked away. "Look, I know you like Hagrid and everything and I _respect_ that, but he was bloody stupid bringing those beasts to the lesson—"

" _They're not beasts!"_ Hermione cried.

"Whatever!" said Draco. "The point is, something like this was _bound_ to happen!"

"Only to someone as stupid as Pansy Parkinson!" Hermione retaliated.

Draco frowned. "It could've happened to me just as easily…am _I_ stupid, then? Am I, Hermione?"

"You are if you defend your friend," she muttered after a moment's silence.

"You are if you defend _your_ friend," Draco told her.

They stared at each other for a long time.

And then, without warning, Hermione pushed past him and burst back into the hospital wing, startling both Pansy and Regina, who was standing by her bedside.

"What do _you_ want again?" Regina asked, folding her arms in front of her.

Ignoring her, Hermione marched up to Pansy's bed and halted at the foot of it, while Draco followed just behind her. "I want you to promise that you are not gonna do it." Pansy raised her eyebrows at her. "You're not gonna wreck Hagrid's life like this. You won't press charges."

"Are _you_ seriously gonna tell _me_ what to do?" laughed Pansy.

"Hermione," said Draco, reaching for her arm.

She pulled away from him and continued to glare at Pansy. "You _cannot_ do this to him."

Pansy's smile faded instantly, and she glared back at Hermione for a few long seconds before she slowly pulled her bandaged arm up so that Hermione could see it. Pansy winced as she did so, but nevertheless raised it higher and higher until Regina stopped her.

"Do you _see_ what your beast-loving _friend_ let happen to me?" Pansy hissed at Hermione, whose eyes fell on the blood-soaked bandages.

"He didn't mean for it to happen!" Hermione pleaded. "Honestly, I promise you, Hagrid would _never_ —"

"GET…OUT…" said Pansy, in a dangerously dark voice that told Draco it was time to get his friend out of there.

He grabbed Hermione's arm again, and this time, she did not pull away, but turned to him instead, her eyes sparkling with tears.

"If you don't take my side here, this friendship is over," she promised him.

It took Draco a long time to find his voice, once the impact of these powerful words had hit him. He let go of Hermione's arm straightaway and stared into her watery eyes.

"I can't believe you just said that," he breathed.

And that was when he saw something change in the way that Hermione was looking at him…almost as though she was suddenly filled with a powerful surge of guilt. But Draco was far too hurt to listen to anything she had to say now, and so as soon as he thought she was about to speak, he pushed past her and ran out of the hospital wing.

* * *

"Come on, have pumpkin juice, go on," said Blaise, pushing the pitcher towards Draco.

Draco shook his head and pushed it back.

"You guys are gonna do great today," said Crabbe. "I really think you will!"

"Oy, _they're_ not trying out, you know that, right, Crabbe?" said Avery.

Crabbe frowned.

"It's just Slytherin trials for chasers and beaters," Draco explained. "The rest of us who were already on the team are staying on the team."

"Oh," said Goyle.

It was the last week of September. Draco and his friends were sitting at the Slytherin table on a Saturday morning, enjoying breakfast before heading out to the Quidditch pitch. Draco and Avery were already in their Quidditch robes, and the others planned on coming to watch as Blaise would try out for the Beater position. The last couple of weeks had certainly been interesting, if not anything else. For some strange reason that Draco could not quite comprehend himself, he felt somewhat compelled to help Pansy build a case against Hagrid and that foul hippogriff. And so that was what he and she had been up to almost every night for the last three weeks.

Blaise and Avery were very supportive of Draco getting involved in this, though Avery constantly reminded Draco not to let it interfere with Quidditch practice, which he was certainly intent on attending.

The hype about Peter Pettigrew escaping from Azkaban was still very big around the school, especially since the morning Prophet made a point to remind everyone that a mass murderer was still on the loose. But other than that, they never really saw the Dementors. Dumbledore had kept true to his word that they wouldn't disrupt day to day activities alright.

Classes were going fairly well. Draco had met up with Sev a few times before Potions, during which they talked about their summers. Draco also made sure to get the money from Sev that he'd promised he'd pay back Hermione. Though, it took a long time before he plucked up the courage to ask Neville Longbottom to meet him in the dungeons so that he could pass the money to her. Hermione however, never responded.

Aside from getting the money from Sev, Draco had also—quite embarrassingly so—requested that Sev find a way for him to be able to visit Hogsmeade Village with his friends, since his mother had so elegantly ignored the permission form that he'd left on the kitchen counter for all of August. Sev however, promised to take care of it, so Draco felt no need coming to Sirius about the matter.

Sirius' class was an absolute favourite among all the third years, and quite possibly, the older students too, though Draco wasn't sure since he didn't really talk to them. But Avery, who was certainly popular among the fifth years, claimed that everyone loved Sirius. And Draco couldn't see why not…

Having Sirius at Hogwarts was quite possibly the best gift he could have ever gotten, next to having Sev for Potions again. That and the glorious feasts every day made the whole place worth the while. But even though Draco was happy to be back among his friends, even though he was very excited for the upcoming Quidditch season with his amazing Nimbus 2001, and even though Sirius and Sev actually made him excited for classes, none of it mattered if he couldn't share it with his best friend…

…and losing her, really did hurt. A lot.

Draco and Hermione had not spoken to—had not even _acknowledged_ —each other for all of the month of September. It was really weird, having classes with her and seeing her almost every day but not talking to her. Draco wanted to talk to her, he really did. In fact, he had no problem forgiving her for what she'd said. He knew and understood perfectly well that what she'd said had just been in the heat of the moment and that she'd been distraught over what Pansy was planning…and quite possibly shocked by the incident too. But Draco also knew that, as much as it pained him to do this, Hermione had to be the one to say the first word. It was the only way that their friendship would ever be saved. Draco had taken the fall many times before, even though he hadn't always necessarily agreed…he'd always been the first to apologise—even though her apologies followed literally seconds later…but this time, it would have to be her. And he was almost positive that she knew this too.

"Draaaaco!" Blaise sang, snapping Draco out of his daydream.

"What?" he said.

"You ready? We gotta go, mate," said Blaise, and he, Avery, Crabbe and Goyle jumped to their feet.

"Oh," said Draco, also following. "Right."

"Come on, it'll be a great practice," said Avery, pulling an arm over his shoulder as they walked out of the Great Hall with their broomsticks. "And tell you what…you'll have such a good time flying again that you'll forget all about her."

 _Unlikely_ , thought Draco.

* * *

 **Thanks again for your patience these last two and a half weeks! I really hoped you liked the chapter and don't jump to any conclusions. Things will become a little clearer in the next chapter, which again, I'll have up just as soon as I finish it!**


	23. Year 3: Hogsmeade

**A/N : I'm really grateful for those of you who are understanding and being patient with this story. As I've said before, I'm working on two fanfics at the moment, and then I also have classes and work on the side, so I'm really trying to write as fast as possible and find time for everything. I promise, I am not going to stop this story in the middle. _I will finish it_..it just might take a little longer than I'd planned. Yeah, that's all I have to say for now, so just hope you like this chapter too.**

 **Also, didn't have time to proofread it so I apologise in advance for any mistakes. I'll find time to check it after and I'll edit them all out.**

 **Disclaimer : Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks**

* * *

CHAPTER 23: YEAR 3—HOGSMEADE

* * *

 _Harry_

* * *

 _...Ron turned to Harry and rolled his eyes. They both glanced at Ginny again, who was laughing with a large group of girls now._

 _"Should we tell her then?" said Ron, smiling sadly._

 _"Nah," said Harry, laughing as Fred and George high-fived Ginny. "Let her enjoy this..."_

* * *

"Brilliant!" cried Ron, clapping his hands together once. "I've been waiting for this to happen already."

"Yeah, but you know you guys can't come unless you finish those three essays you've been delaying for days now," Neville pointed out.

"Oh don't be such a killjoy, Neville," said Ron. "We'll get 'em done when we'll get 'em done, won't we Harry?"

"Yep," said Harry confidently, his eyes on the yellow sheet posted on the notice board in the Gryffindor common room.

Although the first trip to Hogsmeade was scheduled for Saturday, October the 24th, which was two weeks away, Harry could hardly wait. He'd never been to Hogsmeade before, but he'd heard loads from his dad and Remus and Sirius, and he couldn't wait to go to the place where they had gotten into all sorts of mischief at his age.

Up at the school, things were going as usual. Harry, Ron and Neville were enjoying most of their classes, with the exception of Divination, which they soon learned to be a very dull subject that they regretted taking in the first place. Potions with Slughorn was just like Potions with Slughorn was expected to be—all the 'star' students, Harry included, were always showcased in front of the class like objects. Slughorn loved to mention Harry's mother too, which annoyed Harry a great deal. But, it was still a lot better than Potions with Snape, and Harry was sure to remind himself that, every single lesson.

McGonagall and Flitwick were the same as always, and everyone enjoyed their classes. But there was no doubt in that Sirius' class was everyone's absolute favourite. Even Fred and George claimed that this was a popular belief among the fifth years. Sirius certainly had a knack for teaching—and not just teaching, but teaching _teenagers._ Defense against the Dark Arts hadn't been that fun since Remus had taught it, two years previously.

Quidditch was also going really well. Ginny had turned out to be a fantastic player, which neither Ron nor Fred or George had expected, but Harry had guessed at all along.

"You can tell a lot about how a person will fly based on their personality," Harry explained to Ron after he'd asked him about it.

It was true though. Harry was sure that, ever since he'd first met Ginny, he'd known she would be a good flyer. He would never dare tell Ron that she was better than him however. That was a conversation that, as far as Harry was concerned, he and Ron should never have, because it would then finalise a war between him and Ginny. But it wasn't that hard hiding this opinion from him. Ron was still chasing after Hermione for History of Magic notes. But she was extremely bitter these days and so he eventually gave that up.

Hermione hadn't been the same since the incident with Buckbeak had occurred on the first day of school, and it didn't help that word had gotten around about the Parkinsons pressing charges against Hagrid and the hippogriff. Harry, Ron and Neville had all been devastated to hear this from Hagrid when they went to his house for tea the next day, but not as devastated as he obviously was. He explained that Dumbledore promised to do whatever he could, but even Hagrid wasn't feeling confident, because apparently, Pansy Parkinson's parents were like ... high up in the Minister's office or something, and so they had influence. Harry didn't know anything about it though. All he knew was that neither Hagrid nor Hermione were the same after that day.

Hermione seemed to be taking the news worse than anyone else Harry knew. For one, she and Malfoy weren't speaking to each other, or as far as Harry could tell anyway. But Malfoy also didn't look angry with her—in fact, he looked like _he_ was waiting for _her_ to apologise. Second, she wasn't as eager to answer all questions in class like she used to be. She still did all her homework and studying and was at the top of every single class, but she wasn't so upfront about it anymore. And third, she refused to come to all Quidditch matches, and there had already been two in the school year so far. One had been between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, and one between Hufflepuff and Slytherin. The next match, Slytherin versus Ravenclaw, was scheduled to take place next weekend, but Harry doubted Hermione would show up to that one either. Not that it mattered anyway…at least she was coming to her senses about the people she associated herself with, and that was a start.

Harry, Ron and Neville tried as best as they could to cheer Hagrid up, but when they weren't doing that or homework or Quidditch things, they found other stuff to keep themselves occupied. Harry and Ron still made use of his father's cloak every little while, but now that the Marauder's Map had entered the picture, they were even more tempted to use it frequently. Ron had been completely overjoyed and ecstatic when Harry had finally showed it to him one night in the common room, while Neville looked slightly put off.

"You could get into serious trouble if you're caught with an object like that," he told Harry, but as always, Harry ignored him.

Sirius knew he had it—heck, he'd _given_ it to Harry himself. If Harry got caught, for whatever reason, he was sure that Sirius would come to the rescue. So, all was well.

But the Marauder's Map wasn't the only thing that Neville was badgering Harry about these days. Nearly every week, he shot Harry the question that Harry dreaded hearing the most…Have you asked about 'that night' yet?

The truth was, Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know at all. He'd never told anybody this, but he'd always had a strange feeling whenever someone talked about 'that night'. He'd always sensed that something was off…that someone was not right. His parents never talked about it, and even Remus and Sirius hardly ever mentioned it. It was just…there…just a piece of their family history that they were all hoping to forget but were unfortunately unable to, due to the mass fame and celebrity surrounding them—or mostly Harry.

The Daily Prophet was still printing articles about Harry on a daily basis, and now that Peter Pettigrew had escaped from Azkaban, the frequency was greater than ever. Reporters and interviewers thought it would be funny to connect the two stories. They were now convinced that Pettigrew was out to get Harry and that Harry should not be allowed out without supervision.

"Bullocks!" said Sirius when Harry read this to him one morning. "Don't listen to them idiots. They're just bored with their lives so they write rubbish about other people. It's all nonsense."

"I know it is, it's just annoying," said Harry, folding the newspaper again. "Anyway, what did you call me here to tell me?"

"Oh right," said Sirius, hopping off the teacher's desk again. "So I told you that I needed this month to get sorted out and just really grasp this whole teacher thing I'm trying…" Harry nodded. "But now I've gotten the hang of it. I know how to handle these students and—"

" _Handle_?" said Harry.

"Well yeah," said Sirius. "I mean they're all great but some of them can really get on my nerves…especially the young ones."

"Are you forgetting that you were them not that long ago?" laughed Harry.

"Yeah…?" said Sirius, slowly. "What are you playing at?"

"Nothing!" said Harry, innocently. "Everything is fine!"

"Come off it, what's going on?" said Sirius, still waiting.

Harry grinned. "You're talking like an adult."

"I am not!"

"Are too!"

"I—" Sirius paused mid-sentence and grimaced. "Okay, so about what I called you here for…"

Harry folded his arms, still smirking, but waited.

"Those dementor-repelling lessons," said Sirius, matter-of-factly.

"Oh," said Harry, dropping his arms to his sides again. "Right…that."

He'd completely forgotten that Sirius had promised to teach him how to repel the dementors. So much had been going on, between classes and Quidditch, that it had totally escaped his mind.

Noticing this, Sirius slowly said, "You're still interested in learning how to repel them, right?"

"What—yeah, yeah! Of course!" said Harry, quickly. "So, um, when did you want to start?"

"I was thinking Saturday nights," said Sirius. "At, say, 9 o'clock?"

"Perfect," said Harry. "Nine it is."

"Excellent," said Sirius.

Suddenly the bell rang, and Harry smiled at Sirius before turning to leave.

"Uh just one more thing!" cried Sirius. Harry turned back to him. "You still want to do those Tuesday lunches?"

Harry gaped at him and his mouth fell slightly open. Sirius frowned. "I…I mean, I…"

"You don't want to do them anymore?" said Sirius in a slightly hurt voice.

"No, that's not it at all!" cried Harry. "I just…I mean I…I thought you'd forgotten about them."

At this, Sirius smiled. "I've been busy, yes, but I haven't forgotten." Harry smiled. "My office then?"

"Yep, see you at lunch!" said Harry, beaming.

* * *

 _Dear Harry,_

 _I thought I would write to tell you that I've found a job at last. Dumbledore's helped me with it of course, but the job is really good. I'll let you know the details of it when I see you. I just thought I'd let you know._

 _I hope things are going well at school and with Quidditch. I also hope that you'll give those Dementor lessons with Sirius your utmost attention and commitment. They are crucial, Harry. You don't want to experience a severe Dementor attack. Believe me._

 _I also hope that you aren't giving Sirius any grief about trying to get closer to Draco Malfoy. They are related, Harry. It is what it is and you can't change it, so you'd better not be trying to make him feel guilty for trying to get to know his cousin._

 _Best of love,_

 _Remus_

"He's right, you know," said Neville after he'd finished reading Harry's letter from Remus on Saturday during dinner.

"I know," said Harry, folding up the letter and putting it away. "And I'm not giving Sirius any grief."

Neville raised an eyebrow at him.

"I'm not!" said Harry. "I…look, he's right. It is what it is. I can't change it."

"No, you can't," said Neville. "So don't even try to."

"What are you guys always going on about?" said Ron, turning back to them from his conversation with Fred.

"Nothing," said Harry and Neville together.

Neville gave Harry another pointed look but he ignored him. Neville had no idea what it was like to be practically related to someone he hated so much. Although Harry didn't feel like he necessarily _hated_ Malfoy anymore—after all, they _had_ set a truce last year—he still did not fancy being related to the git in any way.

"Okay," sighed Harry, finishing up the last of his juice. "I'm off."

"Good luck, mate!" Ron called after him.

Harry waved goodbye and exited the Great Hall with nothing but the letter in one pocket and his wand in the other. When he finally arrived at Sirius' office, he found Sirius sitting on his desk (as usual) with his own wand out.

"Close the door, will you?" said Sirius.

Harry did so, and Sirius hopped off the desk and moved to the center of the room.

"Watch this," he said, and he waved his wand in a circle.

A silver streak of light erupted from the wand and instantly shaped itself into a kind of dog that galloped around the room for several seconds before vanishing into thin mist.

"Whoa," said Harry, his eyes sparkling with glee. "What the hell just happened?"

"That was called a Patronus Charm," said Sirius. "The dog is _my_ Patronus, because Padfoot is a dog. Normally, a wizard's animagus form is the same as his Patronus."

"What's a Patronus?" said Harry.

"It's a charm that is meant to act like a sort of shield," explained Sirius. "Normally, wizards start with just producing a ray of light that can act as a shield, but they eventually can learn to produce the full-bodied Patronus. And _that_ takes the form of an animal unique to that wizard's personality. Understand?"

"I think so," nodded Harry. "So how long does it take to learn this Patronus thingy?"

"Patronus _Charm_ ," said Sirius, "And it's different for everyone. But you're already a great wizard so I don't reckon it'll take you very long to learn it. But we'll see."

"Okay," said Harry, pulling out his wand. "I'm ready."

"Oh no," laughed Sirius. "It's not that simple. You see, to produce the Patronus Charm, there is a spell that you have to learn. But that's only 50% of what you have to do. The other 50% involves searching your brain for a memory."

"A memory," Harry repeated.

"Yep," said Sirius, hopping back on the desk. "You have to find the single most happiest memory of your very existence. You have to explore your past and find it, and once you've found it, you have to succumb to it completely. Once you've got that going, you can say the spell and we'll see if something happens. So for today, I just want you to practice different memories and see what happens, okay?"

Harry nodded.

"The incantation is _Expecto Patronum_."

"Expecto Patronum," Harry repeated. "Expecto Patronum. Expecto Patronum. Got it."

"Good," said Sirius. "Now close your eyes and concentrate hard on a memory."

Harry closed his eyes and thought. Well, this was easy enough. He opened his eyes and pointed his wand at a black spot on the wall before saying, "Expecto Patronum."

A tiny streak of silver light hinted its way out of his wand before disappearing altogether. Harry frowned.

"That was not bad for a first try," said Sirius, encouragingly. "What memory did you use?"

"The first time you took me to the Quidditch World Cup," said Harry, still frowning at his wand.

"Nah, Harry, that won't do!" said Sirius, shaking his head.

"But that was a brilliant day!" Harry argued. "Don't you remember?"

"Of course I remember," said Sirius. "But for this type of spell, it has to be something a whole lot stronger than that…stronger than any birthday party or Christmas you've ever had. It has to be _the strongest_ out of _all_ the memories you've shared in your entire _life_."

Harry sighed.

This was going to be a lot harder than he'd expected.

"Blimey, I think it would be harder for Draco to find a memory than it would be for you, given the life that he's had," said Sirius.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Harry mumbled.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing! Um, should we go again?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

Harry closed his eyes. "You're not going to start teaching him too, are you?" he asked in spite of himself.

"I just might," said Sirius, and when Harry's eyes flew open, he found him smirking. Harry shook his head at him and closed his eyes again, this time thinking of the night he'd gotten Hedwig.

"There you are!" said Neville once Harry climbed back in through the portrait hole. "How did it go?"

"Okay," shrugged Harry.

"Just okay?" said Ron.

"It was just the first lesson," said Harry. "And Sirius said that the Patronus Charm is really difficult to learn."

"It is," said Neville. "Many grown wizards aren't able to produce it, let alone teenagers like you."

Harry sighed and rested his head on the couch. He then turned slightly and found Ginny watching him from the other end of the common room. He waved at her and she waved back, smiling.

"So what else did he say then?" said Ron, who was finishing up an essay which Neville was looking over now.

"He joked about giving Malfoy lessons too," Harry admitted.

Ron laughed, but Neville glanced up at Harry with a worried look.

"And how do you feel about this?" he asked him.

"Nev, he was _joking_!" said Harry, calmly.

But Neville did not look convinced. Harry however, had nothing to worry about. He knew that Sirius would not do something so outrageous as to combine lessons with him and Draco Malfoy so that the three of them could become the best of friends. There was just no way that that was going to happen.

Hermione's ginger cat suddenly jumped up on Ron's lap and hissed violently at him. He got to his feet and shrugged the thing off until it went away.

"That stupid thing," he said, cursing aloud. "It's been following me everywhere for weeks now! I'll bet you anything that Hermione's put him up to this."

"Yeah, you're right," said Neville. "I'm sure that she wakes up every morning and wonders how _can_ she torture Ron Weasley today..."

As the first Hogsmeade weekend drew steadily nearer, the days became colder and colder. Care of Magical Creatures classes were dreaded as students struggled to get down the sloping lawns to Hagrid's hut in the threateningly chilly wind. Percy made Ginny wear two scarves wherever she went because he'd promised their mother that she wouldn't get sick. But when he turned away, Ginny still always took the second scarf off and chucked it in her bag, giving Harry a knowing look.

The Patronus Charm lessons were going okay, except that Harry was still struggling to find a 'happiest moment ever'. There were so many that he couldn't choose one that he identified with the most—one that would be strong enough to produce the full-bodied Patronus that Sirius talked about so much. But still, it was nice to meet up with him every week and work on it. For just that one hour—sometimes two—it made Harry feel like everything was back to the way it used to be, prior to the Malfoy/Sirius era that Harry was beginning to despise.

As the days passed, Hermione's mood brightened considerably as well. She wasn't as grumpy or grouchy anymore. Neville strongly suspected that this was because she'd found some kind of a solution to the Hagrid/hippogriff problem, but Harry seriously doubted this was the case. He didn't think Hermione cared all that much about Hagrid or the hippogriff—her concerns were solely to do with something else.

"I know _your_ theory," said Neville when Harry told him as much on the way to Herbology one chilly October afternoon. "But you shouldn't go around accusing her of such things. Whatever her motivation is, at least she's trying to do something to help Hagrid, and that's a start."

Harry shrugged. He didn't really care what Hermione was doing or why she was doing it. What he cared more about was what she'd told him in the library just a few days before. He had come there to find a book for that research essay that Slughorn had assigned the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. Hermione was looking for the same book and they chatted briefly about classes and the weather before she lowered her voice.

"I need to talk to you about something very important, Harry," she told him.

Harry frowned at her but she looked around them and then pulled him away to a corner table, out of earshot of others. She leaned forwards and dropped her voice to a whisper.

"I need to talk to you about Ginny Weasley."

"What about her?" said Harry.

"Her feelings for you," Hermione clarified.

Harry laughed. "What feelings?"

"Oh don't be stupid!" hissed Hermione. "It's obvious, isn't it? I would think you would know by now."

"What are you talking about?"

"She has _strong_ feelings for you, Harry. Can't you see it?"

"No."

"Well, she does!"

And then, Harry remembered their train ride to Hogwarts, and how Ginny had clung close to him when the Dementors had stopped the train. He'd thought it was nothing at the time...she was just scared. It was normal. But now...it was quite possible that she had other reasons for clinging to _him_ and not to Neville or, say, her own brother.

"Haaaaarry," Hermione sang, snapping him back into focus.

"Y-yeah?" he said.

"She has a crush on you," Hermione repeated. "A serious one."

"Okay, so?"

Hermione stared at him.

" _So_ ," she said, exasperated, "You need to be very careful about how you act around her if you're not interested."

"Of course I'm not interested!" he exclaimed, and Hermione shushed him at once. He looked around them again before continuing, more quietly. "She's a little girl! She's…R-Ron's sister!"

"Okay!" said Hermione. "Fine, whatever you want. But you have to be careful about the way you act around her. What you may perceive as just being nice or friendly, she may perceive otherwise."

"W-what do you mean?" said Harry, anxiously.

"It's _really_ difficult being a young girl, Harry," said Hermione, seriously. " _Especially_ in a house full of brothers and no sisters."

"Well what about her mother?"

"Ginny doesn't want to talk to her about these things," said Hermione, simply.

"Oh but she talked to you, did she?" said Harry.

"Well," said Hermione, pausing. "We're friends, Ginny and me!"

Harry raised an eyebrow at her and she nodded fervently.

"Okay whatever," said Harry. "Tell me, does your _friend_ know that you told me this about her?"

"Of course not!" gasped Hermione. "And it better stay that way." She pointed a threatening finger at Harry but he only nodded.

"I just thought I should tell you so that you're aware of the situation," Hermione concluded. She got to her feet.

"Are you aware of _your_ situation?" said Harry, standing up with her.

She stared at him, waiting for clarification, and when he didn't provide it, she said, "I don't know what you are talking about."

"Sure you do," said Harry. "It's _extremely_ obvious to everyone around you…probably to him too…so just try to hide it better, for your sake."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Hermione repeated, this time folding her arms in a protesting sort of way.

Harry raised an eyebrow at her, but when she did nothing, he nodded.

"So you're not like…upset or anything…anymore…are you?" he said.

Hermione pretended to look confused, but even she could not pull it off. So instead, she picked up her books from where she'd set them on the table and walked away from Harry, leaving him with the assumption that no, things had not resolved yet.

Walking back to the common room, a strange feeling suddenly engulfed Harry. He felt a lump in his throat as he tried to give the Fat Lady that week's password. When he finally got inside, he saw Ron sitting with Seamus by the fireplace, both of them deep in thought as they stared down at the chess board in front of them. When Ron finally noticed Harry, he waved him to come over to them. Harry did.

"Really, how long does it take to find a book?" said Ron.

"I ran into Hermione," said Harry, sitting on the couch, suddenly aware that he hadn't gotten the book after all.

Ron frowned. "Oh."

"Oh?"

"I dunno," mumbled Ron. "What did you guys talk about?"

"Just school stuff," said Harry.

"Did she say anything about what she's planning to do for Buckbeak?"

"No," said Harry, truthfully.

"Did she say anything else? You were gone for a half hour, mate."

Harry glanced at Ron, who was looking back at him expectedly, redheaded and freckle-faced, and without a care in the world.

"Well?" said Ron, who was still waiting for Harry.

"N-no," said Harry finally. "Nothing else."

It was better for him not to know about Ginny. Besides, it really was nothing worth telling.

But that night, his conversation with Hermione haunted him as he lay awake in his bed, listening to Ron's soft snoring. Ginny liked him— _she_ liked _him_ , Harry. This was so beyond awkward that he didn't even know how to feel about it. They'd already spent a few holidays together with their families and he'd never once noticed her acting differently or strangely. Of course, when they'd first met she'd been very weird but he'd just perceived that as shyness…nothing more. And then, she'd relaxed around him pretty quickly, so he'd never given it another thought. But if what Hermione was saying was actually true…if Ginny _actually_ liked him…she was doing a very good job at keeping it a secret. Harry, on the other hand…

The next Quidditch practice, he suddenly became very aware of the compliments he gave her on her flying. He'd never meant for them to be anything other than friendly, and now that he knew what he was not supposed to know, he found himself extremely aware of them. He began stopping himself and addressing Ginny as rarely as possible, hoping that his talking to her would not make things any more awkward. But then he found that Fred and George were staring at him curiously and he quickly looked away from them or flew off in the other direction. He didn't know how to act in this sort of situation. It had never happened to him before, and the fact that it was _Ron's little sister_ was more awkward than anything he'd ever imagined.

He tried to put his mind off it and focus on flying or schoolwork or the Patronus Charm or cheering Hagrid up, but even he had a limit. At night, that conversation with Hermione always seemed to creep back up on him, and he found himself aching to tell Ron so that he'd make him feel better, given that he had known Ginny all her life and would probably tell Harry that this was just a phase she was going through or that it had happened before with someone else or whatever. It was so awkward to know that someone liked him—he'd never even thought that girls saw him that way…at least, not until now they hadn't.

At long last—it couldn't have happened sooner—the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year arrived. Harry, Ron and Neville got up early that morning and breakfasted quickly. With their money pouches safely in their pockets and their scarves wrapped around their necks, they joined their classmates in the Entrance Hall and waited as McGonagall and Filch went around collecting permission forms. Hermione, Harry noticed, was standing up at the front with Malfoy and that Zabini kid. It looked like she and Malfoy had made up after all. They certainly were laughing together now about something.

"Alright, come along then!" Professor McGonagall called and she opened the front doors and led the students out.

"This is gonna be brilliant," said Ron over and over again as they walked the long way to Hogsmeade Village for the very first time, Ron babbling the whole way there.

"…oh and we've got to go to Honeydukes Cellar. We _have_ to."

"We will," Neville nodded. "I've heard nothing but great things about it."

"Of course, Ron and I have already been to Hogsmeade once before," said Harry, casually.

"Oh that's right!" said Ron. "Although, that didn't really count. It was only the Shrieking Shack."

"Still a part of Hogsmeade!" Harry contradicted.

Ron shrugged. "All I know is that the villagers all think it's haunted for some stupid reason…they say they've heard howling there like every couple of weeks but when they've investigated they haven't been able to get inside and….ooohhh…." he frowned and Harry and Ron both laughed.

When they finally reached Hogsmeade they found that, like Diagon Alley, all the shops and all the pillars and lampposts were covered in Wanted posters with Pettigrew's dirty face on the front. The students looked slightly agitated by this, but then they caught sight of the many wonderful shops of Hogsmeade Village and darted this way and that.

"Come on!" Ron shouted, making his way to Zonko's Joke Shop.

Harry and Neville followed. It was indeed one of the most colourful places Harry had ever been. From every shelf at every corner, a kaleidoscopic carnival of Dungbombs, Hiccup Sweets, Frog Spawn Soap and Nose-Biting Teacups positively littered the entire store. Harry almost felt guilty for buying as much as he did, but his money pouch was definitely a lot lighter when the boys left the store half an hour later.

"Well," sighed Neville, looking around the winding and turning streets of the village. "How should we spend our remaining hour and a half?"

"I wanna go visit the post office before we leave," Harry informed him, checking his bags to make sure he hadn't left anything behind.

Just then, someone brushed past his shoulder and whirled around to find the Patil sisters and Lavender Brown moving past him.

"Hi Harry," said Lavender, smiling.

"Hey," he replied, glancing back down at his bags as the girls kept walking.

"Honeydukes!" Ron sang.

Neville laughed. "Okay let's go to Honeydukes now then."

After Honeydukes, which was also filled colourfully from shelf to shelf with an assortment of sweets and flavours, the boys went to the post office and then to Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. At half past noon, with forty minutes left of their adventure, the boys stopped in the middle of the village and looked around, wondering where to go for lunch. The sky above was getting darker by the minute, and Harry was starting to wonder whether they would be caught in a storm on the way back to the castle.

"I say we skip lunch altogether and hit some more shops before we have to leave," said Ron. "We can get lunch back at school!"

"Did _you_ actually just say the words 'skip' and 'lunch' in the same sentence?" said Harry, incredulously.

Neville was also gaping at Ron, but he only rolled his eyes at the pair of them and glanced over at The Three Broomsticks.

"I spy a Sirius Black," he said, and Harry and Neville looked round to find Sirius waving them over from where he was standing by the doors leading to the Three Broomsticks.

Excited, the boys crossed the street to greet him.

"How you guys doing?" he said, shaking Ron's hand and then giving Neville a pat on the back.

"Not bad," said Ron.

Sirius glanced at all the shopping bags in Ron's hands. "Uh yeah, I can see that."

The pair of them smirked.

"This is one of my favourite places in the whole world," said Sirius, looking around the village again with a soft smile.

"What are your other favourite places?" Ron wondered.

Sirius smiled. "Oh just…you know…here and there…come-and-go places…"

"What are you doing back here anyway?" said Harry.

"Oh I have to run some errands back in my apartment," said Sirius. "You wanna help me?"

"Yeah!" said Harry, almost too quickly. He looked round at the other two. "Uh, you guys go ahead without me. I'll meet you back at the school."

"Okay," said Ron, who had his eyes set on another shop just across the street. "You coming, Neville?"

"Yeah, see you later Harry," said Neville, making sure to give him a look that told Harry to use this opportunity to ask Sirius about 'that night'. "Bye Sirius!"

"See ya, Nev," said Sirius, waving the pair of them off as they crossed the street back to the other side again.

Harry followed Sirius into the Three Broomsticks and they made their way around the candlelit tables to the staircase at the back. At the top of the landing, they turned left and entered the third room. Harry had never been to Sirius' place in Hogsmeade, but it was certainly cozy-looking. He had various random objects splattered around the room, both magic and muggle. His bed was untidy and his curtains closed.

"I haven't been in here in two months," Sirius said as he moved past piles of junk and tidied things here and there.

"So much for having my own place," he muttered, pulling out his wand and clearing the dust from the bookcase.

"S-so how about those big Wanted posters?" said Harry, conversationally, as Sirius drew open the curtains and coughed at the puff of dust that obscured his vision.

"What—oh yeah…posters…" said Sirius, coughing a few more times and moving some books from the top of the closet to a shelf by his bedside table. He stopped by the window and frowned. "It's really getting dark out there."

"You knew him," said Harry, matter-of-factly.

It took a while for Sirius to turn around to look at him. But once he finally did, Harry knew almost instantly that Sirius knew exactly what he was talking about. Sirius didn't answer. He grabbed a box that was by the window and tossed it in his closet. He then made up the bed and opened up the curtains on the other side of the room, again coughing due to the dust.

"You and Remus and dad and mum," Harry continued. "You guys all knew him at school, didn't you?"

"Yeah," said Sirius, still not looking at him. "Your mother not so much...they were classmates but not really that much more than that. He was more our friend than he ever was hers. Then again, I suppose he never really was our friend, was he?"

"Why didn't you just tell me?" said Harry, still remaining by the door.

Sirius sighed, and then finally looked up at him.

"It's not exactly something you wanna admit to people," he muttered, "Knowing a murderer and all that."

"Was he always—?"

"No, he wasn't," said Sirius, looking away again and resuming his cleaning.

"Come on, Sirius," said Harry, a little annoyed now. "No one ever tells me anything, alright? You never told me about Draco Malfoy—"

"I did recently!"

"—and all of you guys didn't tell me that you'd be working here this year—"

"It was supposed to be a surprise!"

"—and I know mum and dad are hiding more things from me…things to do with Snape…"

Sirius stared at Harry. "How do you…?"

"You _are_ old!" laughed Harry. "You don't remember teenagers at all!"

Sirius sighed and took a seat on the bed. Harry remained standing. Sirius glanced down at the tissue box that he was holding and stared at it for a long time.

"We don't tell you these things because you shouldn't worry about these things," said Sirius, finally. "The important stuff shouldn't concern you. The things that do concern you, we tell you."

"Not the Draco Malfoy bit!"

" _Okay_ ," sighed Sirius. "And I told you I was wrong about it before already, okay?" Harry rolled his eyes.

"Pettigrew _was_ our friend," Sirius began. "He was actually one of our best friends. You know that Wormtail on the map I gave you?" Harry nodded, understanding even before Sirius continued. "That was his nickname…the three of us always called him Wormtail. He helped create that map."

"Yeah," murmured Harry.

"He was there for all of it," sighed Sirius. "All the times we used James' invisibility cloak…all the fights James and Lily had before she actually agreed to go out with him…all the times we were bickering with old Snivelly… every single one of Remus' full moons…"

"Wait, he's an animagus too?!" cried Harry.

Sirius nodded.

"What did he turn into?"

"A rat…and justifiably so…" said Sirius.

"But then that's probably how he escaped from Azkaban!" cried Harry. Sirius looked up at him. "If he's a rat, he could've easily transformed and crawled through the cell doors and…oh I dunno…swam to shore or something…" But Harry's voiced trailed off because Sirius was now shaking his head sadly.

"First of all, he never would've pulled it off, he was too stupid," he explained. "Second, if he'd been able to do this, he would've done it a long time ago. Not now. _And third,_ " he added, seeing that Harry was about to interrupt, "James and I visited the Minister personally, just about a week after Pettigrew and the others were taken in. We informed him of Pettigrew's illegal animagus status."

"But you guys were illegals too!"

"Y-yeah," said Sirius, slowly. "But the minister was so relieved that we'd come forward with this information about his culprit, that he let this little fact slide. We're registered _now_ ," he added quickly because Harry was about to argue again, "But we weren't when we were still at school."

"Ah," said Harry. "So you don't know how he escaped then?"

"I reckon it was an inside job of some kind," said Sirius, resuming his cleaning once again. "He definitely got help from the outside."

"But the question is from who…" said Harry, nodding.

"Yeah," said Sirius, tossing an old radio into the garbage bin.

Rain was starting to slowly splatter on the windows now, growing stronger and stronger with every passing minute.

"Fuck," Sirius hissed, staring at the window. "You can't apparate within Hogwarts, can you?"

"I can't apparate at all," Harry mumbled, his mind elsewhere as he watched Sirius clean.

For a second, _just a split second_ , Harry considered asking Sirius about 'that night', just like Neville had advised him to do for the last (nearly) two months. But before Harry could even muster up the courage to ask this heavy question, Sirius said, "Have you seen Draco anywhere out there?"

Harry frowned at him. "No, I came with my _Gryffindor_ friends."

"Hey, don't make fun of the whole house thing, okay?" said Sirius, suddenly. "You've no idea how close I came to being sorted into Slytherin myself. And I'll have you know, that if I _had_ been sorted there, your dad and me would never have been friends. And Remus and Pettigrew too probably."

"Okay, okay," said Harry. "No, I haven't seen Malfoy."

"Weird, he was supposed to meet up with me here," said Sirius.

"He was?" said Harry, slowly.

"Yeah, he wanted to talk about something…that whole hippogriff thing that's happening…"

"You've heard about that?" said Harry.

Sirius smirked. "Yeah, all the teachers know. We had a whole staff meeting about it. I practically fell asleep in my chair just sitting there. That staff room really is dull."

"Wait, wait, wait," said Harry. "So you all know? Are you doing anything to help Hagrid? Is Dumbledore gonna talk to the minister? Are they dropping the charges? Will Parkinson have to apologise to Hagrid?"

"Jeez, Harry, are _you_ tryin' to put me to sleep?!" cried Sirius.

Harry caught himself mid-sentence and let out a nervous laugh. Somewhere in the background, thunder rumbled softly.

"I don't know what's happening yet," Sirius told him. "But I do know that Dumbledore will do everything in his power to help Hagrid and that hippogriff. Okay, Harry?"

He opened the bedroom door and Harry exited the room.

"We haven't heard the end of this," Sirius promised, flicking his wand to turn off the lights before closing the door behind him.

* * *

 _Draco_

* * *

 _"...Come on, it'll be a great practice," said Avery, pulling an arm over his shoulder as they walked out of the Great Hall with their broomsticks. "And tell you what…you'll have such a good time flying again that you'll forget all about her."_

Unlikely _, thought Draco..._

* * *

Blaise ended up making the Quidditch team, which was brilliant because now he, Draco and Avery could spend a lot more hours together. They'd already won one match against Ravenclaw, and the next one (against Hufflepuff) was sure to be a big one. But it was the long hours of practice that made it really worth it. Crabbe and Goyle weren't able to hang out with them much anyway, because their parents had gotten together with the teachers and agreed that if those two didn't study harder, they would fail out of third year. So, unfortunately for them, the two had to spend long hours at the library almost every day after lessons.

"The gits," said Blaise, shaking his head as he watched Crabbe and Goyle leave the Entrance Hall for another study session one Wednesday afternoon.

"You know what, we should probably get them a tutor or something," said Draco, thoughtfully.

"Hey how about Granger?" said Blaise.

Both Draco and Avery turned to look at him with exactly the same expression that Blaise burst out laughing.

"Oh come on, it was just a joke!" he cried.

"Not funny," Draco muttered, his eyes flickering over the semi-packed Gryffindor table for just a fraction of a second. Hermione was sitting with that Weasley girl again, apparently talking about something very serious because they had their heads together and didn't look like they wanted to be heard by anyone.

"Have you even talked to Granger at all in the past month and a half?" said Avery.

Draco turned away from the Gryffindor table and shook his head.

"Are you gonna?" said Avery.

Draco shrugged.

"I think you should," said Blaise, picking a grape from the fruit basket nearby and throwing it into his mouth. "She's really fun, that one."

" _Hermione_?" said Draco, gaping at him.

"Yeah, why not?" said Blaise. " _You_ obviously think she's fun, otherwise you wouldn't be hanging around her all this time, would you?"

"Yeah, probably not," said Draco.

"Well there you have it then," said Blaise, simply. "Go make up with her so that we don't have to hear you crying yourself to sleep every night."

Draco rolled his eyes at him.

"I just feel bad for Crabbe and Goyle, that's all," Blaise continued after a moment's silence. "They're always stuck in the library."

"Uh, you and I are always in the library too," Draco pointed out.

"Yeah, but that's different," said Blaise. "We're there helping Pansy and Regina. There is something in it for us. We're not just wasting our bloody time."

"What's in it for you?" said Draco.

"Snogging," said Avery, simply.

Draco choked on his orange juice, but Blaise only smirked.

"You? _Snogging_?" said Draco after he'd recovered from a terrible coughing fit.

"He hopes to, anyway," said Avery without looking up from his newspaper.

"With Pansy?" Draco asked Blaise.

"Nah, the other one," said Blaise. "I like blondes."

"Mate, she's thirteen," said Avery. "She won't snog you at thirteen."

"True," said Blaise. "But she'll be fourteen next year. And fifteen the year after."

"Do you really plan on waiting for her to throw herself at you?" said Draco.

"Oh she will," said Blaise. "I've got…what are they called?...tactics."

Draco and Avery burst out laughing, and Blaise stared at them with confusion.

About ten minutes before the end-of-lunch bell, Draco stopped by Sev's office for a chat. Sev had been pretty busy the last couple of weeks to talk outside of class, and Draco really wanted his opinion on this whole hippogriff thing, which was apparently just as popular around the school as Peter Pettigrew's escape from Azkaban.

"Hello Draco," said Sev, coolly, as Draco entered his office.

"Hey," he said, closing the door behind him. "You busy?"

"A bit," said Sev, who was shuffling papers at his desk. "There have been endless staff meetings the last couple of weeks…Dumbledore is changing a lot of things around the school and there is also a lot that we have to take care of to keep the dementors away from students."

"Well I haven't seen them at all," Draco assured him.

"Yes, that is because we have taken care of that," said Sev.

Draco nodded. "So, like, do you plan on going to Hogsmeade too?"

"No," said Sev without looking up.

"Oh," said Draco, taking a small step forwards.

"I have nothing there," Sev explained after a moment's silence.

"Yeah, I get it," said Draco. "Um, well Sirius has asked me to meet him there."

Sev suddenly paused and looked up at Draco, his black hair shadowing his face slightly in the already dimly-lit office.

"Did he now?" he said, coolly.

"Yeah," said Draco.

"And will you?"

Draco nodded.

"Ah," said Sev. "And did you just come here to tell me that?"

"No," said Draco, slowly, and this time, he let himself take a seat at Sev's desk. Sev watched him closely. "Look Sev, I know you and him have all this history, but I really want to get to know him. He's family, you know?"

"So what are you doing here then?"

Draco paused before answering.

"I kind of wanted to ask you about…about this whole hippogriff thing…"

"What about it?"

"I wanted to know what you think."

"About….your involvement in the case…? About the case itself? Or about Rubeus Hagrid's insufferable obsession with woodland creatures?"

"Well definitely not the latter," said Draco, scoffing. "No, I wanted to know what you think about me getting involved."

"I think it is a bloody waste of time," said Sev, finally looking back down at the sheets on his desk. "That's what I think."

Draco stared at him for a long time before muttering, "You really think so?"

"I do," said Sev, simply. "Is that all you wanted?"

"No," said Draco, more boldly this time. "I wanted to ask you about Peter Pettigrew."

"What about him?" said Sev, lazily.

"You knew him?" said Draco.

"Why are you asking me this?"

"Because he's the most sought-after wizard in Britain right now," said Draco, " _And_ because my parents have been talking about him all summer!"

"They have?" said Sev, suddenly looking alarmed. "What have they been saying?"

"N-nothing!" said Draco, puzzled. "They're just…they're wondering how he managed to get away." He paused. "You don't know how he got away, do you?"

"No," said Sev, looking back at his sheets.

"Well did you know him then?" Draco asked again.

"I think your question is more directed at Professor _Black_ ," said Sev. "Now, if you don't mind, I do need to get back to work and you have Transfiguration, so off you go."

Draco slowly turned around on the spot and made his way out of the office without looking back.

Sev had not been the same this year…ever since Sirius had arrived, actually. And Draco understood completely. But it still really bothered him that the one person he'd known and trusted his whole life could not grin and bear it for his sake, while he got to know his cousin. But one thing Sev had said did stick to Draco. He wanted him to ask Sirius about Pettigrew…could that mean then that Sirius had known him?

"What's up?" said Avery, who was staring at Draco with a puzzled expression as Draco slumped in the seat next to him in Transfiguration ten minutes later.

"Nothing," Draco grumbled. "Adults are stupid."

For the entire duration of the lesson, Draco stared out of the window, where the rain was pouring hard from the completely darkened sky. Sirius had written to him over the summer, and in his letter, he had clearly stated that he himself had come close to being in Pettigrew's place today. What did that mean? Was Sirius the one who had turned Pettigrew in? Were they enemies back at school? Everyone knew now that Pettigrew had been a student at Hogwarts, and by the looks of it, he had been at Hogwarts at the same time that Sirius and Sev had been…so who were Pettigrew's friends and why wasn't anyone trying to come after them, seeing as how they were obviously the ones who let him out of Azkaban?

* * *

"Okay, you check that book for facts about that hippogriff case we found from like 1430—I don't remember the year exactly. And I'll look in this book."

Draco nodded as Pansy passed him the large book and flipped it open. Beside her, Regina was frowning at her own book whilst holding candle close to it.

"This shouldn't be too difficult," Pansy muttered as she flipped through the pages. Her cast was already gone for a week now, but she still winced every now and then when lifting something heavy or twisting her arm a certain way.

"I've got it!" said Regina, suddenly. She moved the large book between the three of them and they put their heads together. "Oh wait…no this won't work. The hippogriff was freed."

"That won't work for me," said Pansy. "I want it dead."

"A little harsh, doncha think?" said Draco, smirking.

Pansy stared at him. "I think what it did to me was harsher, and besides, when did you become sympathetic towards the beast?"

"Hey, I'm not sympathetic!" said Draco. "I'm just saying… I thought all you girls were supposed to be 'animal lovers' or whatever."

"You're confusing us with your pal Granger," said Pansy.

Draco looked away from her. It had been about 6 weeks since he'd spoken to Hermione. Other than passing things along to her through Neville Longbottom—like that money he owed her or a happy birthday message on the 19th—it was total silence. Draco had to admit that the little bit of distance was probably good for them…to gain perspective or whatever. But still…not the amazing classes with Sev or Sirius and not even the many Quidditch practices could get his mind off of it—he missed his best friend.

"Okay guys, I'm tired for tonight," said Regina, shutting the large and heavy book with a loud thud. "Let's do this tomorrow."

"Can't, we have that Charms quiz to study for," said Pansy, also shutting her book.

Draco shut his as well and grabbed all three books to return them to the shelf.

"Hey how come Blaise didn't come tonight?" Regina asked.

"Detention," Draco answered.

"Ah," said Regina, flipping her long blonde hair to the side. "Tell him to stop getting into shit. He's a laugh, and I'm really bored tonight."

"Will do," laughed Draco.

Pansy yawned. "The Hogsmeade weekend is coming up, isn't it?"

"Yeah, in a week," said Regina.

"Did you guys wanna meet up afterwards and come back here to look some more?" asked Pansy.

Regina turned to Draco.

"I can't," he said. "I have plans with Sirius. But I'll ask Blaise. He'll probably go."

"Professor Black?" said Regina, her eyebrows raised. "You call him Sirius?"

"He told us we could all call him Sirius," said Draco.

"Well yeah," said Regina, slowly. "But I mean no one really does that…no one other than those ickle Gryffindors."

"That's not true," said Draco as they made their way out of the library and walked along dark corridors. "Avery and Blaise call him Sirius too."

"I haven't heard them," said Regina.

"He was in Gryffindor when he was at Hogwarts, but his whole family have been in Slytherin. They're known for it."

"How do you know so much?"

"Black is Draco's cousin," Pansy informed Regina, and Regina looked round at Draco for confirmation.

He nodded.

"Damn," she said. "I didn't know—must be pretty cool to have a relative up here at the school."

"I guess," said Draco as they turned the corner and climbed down some steps.

"No, it really is cool," said Regina, looking sideways at him as they walked. "You shouldn't take it for granted. You should enjoy it."

"I do enjoy it," Draco assured her.

"Good," said Regina.

There was an awkward moment of silence. And then…

"Thanks guys for helping me with this," said Pansy. "I mean my mother said she would take care of it all but I just wanna do this extra research to maybe speed up the process."

"You know the whole school's talking about this trial, right?" said Draco.

"Yep," said Pansy. "I don't really care what they say or think. It is what it is—that animal should not be allowed near students."

They turned another corner and climbed down more steps until they finally reached the Entrance Hall and descended for the dungeons.

"I'm off to bed," Regina declared as soon as they were inside their common room. "Night."

"Bye," said Pansy and Draco waved.

They too, followed up the stairs while Regina was already gone.

"What's her deal?" Draco asked as they reached the top of the landing and went in opposite directions, her for the girls' dormitory and him for the boys'.

"She's an orphan," Pansy explained, softly.

"Oh," said Draco. "I…didn't…know…"

"There's a lot you don't know about your housemates," said Pansy. "Not the whole world revolves around Gryffindors—night."

"Night."

She entered her dormitory, and Draco stood for a few more seconds before entering his. Blaise, Avery, Crabbe and Goyle were already fast asleep, and so Draco dressed quietly and got into bed, though he did not fall asleep for the longest time. He thought long and hard about what Pansy had said, and decided that she was completely right. He hardly knew anything real about his own housemates. Blaise and Avery were obviously an exception since they were his closest friends there. But he didn't know anything about Crabbe or Goyle other than the fact that they were both really stupid. And this Theodore Nott that Avery was always hanging around…Draco doubted he'd ever actually spoken to him before.

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe he really was paying a little too much attention to the opposing house and not enough to his own.

For the next week, Draco tried harder than usual to get to know his housemates. He started with Blaise and Avery, sitting them both down and asking them to tell him anything personal that they haven't yet…anything about their families or just random things about their childhoods. But after about half an hour, he realised that he already knew everything they were telling him, so those two were a done deal.

Next, he proceeded to Crabbe and Goyle, but as thoroughly predicted, there wasn't much there to work with. So he moved on to Theodore Nott. Avery liked to call him Nott, and by the looks of it, so did everyone else, but after a few late night card games and a _lot_ of talking, Draco was already calling him Theo and laughing with him nearly everywhere they went. Theo was not on the Quidditch team but he did attend every practice and watched Draco, Avery and Blaise.

Quidditch practice was going fairly well—Flint was convinced that Slytherin would win the Cup again this year, because he'd apparently spent his whole summer working out strategies. But as Draco flew around the goal hoops, he could feel that his Nimbus 2001 was not working as well anymore—he had outgrown it and was now in need of a new broom.

Perfect.

As the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year drew nearer, the weather outside got significantly colder. It seemed like it was raining almost every day now, and when it wasn't raining, it was extremely cloudy and grey. Flu season was also blooming and spreading like wildfire among the Hogwarts students, to the point where Crabbe, Goyle _and_ Avery were all in the hospital wing with high fevers and sneezing fits.

"Pomfrey said we won't be able to go to Hogsmeade tomorrow," Avery groaned when Draco and Blaise came to visit on Friday night.

"Sorry," said Draco. "But we'll buy all your things for you. Just give us the money and the list and we'll take care of it."

"You'd better," groaned Avery. "I've been looking forward to this for two months."

"You guys, there'll be _other_ Hogsmeade weekends," said Blaise. "Just relaaaax! It's all good!"

"Easy for you to say," said Goyle from the bed on the opposite end of the somewhat packed hospital wing. "You guys get to go tomorrow."

Draco bit his lip. He had neglected to ask Sev whether he'd ever gotten around to taking care of the whole Hogsmeade permission form problem. . . well, if he had or he hadn't, Draco supposed he would find out tomorrow morning in the Entrance Hall. How embarrassing that would be if it turned out that Sev had forgotten all about it. . .

"Okay we're gonna go," said Draco once Crabbe's next coughing fit began. "Don't wanna…you know, get sick and everything…"

"Y-yeah," said Blaise, looking at Crabbe with disgust. Both he and Draco slowly backed out of the hospital wing, both of them smiling and waving as they went.

Once they were out, Blaise ran off to meet up with Theo while Draco walked slowly back to the common room. However as he turned the corner to head for the dungeons, he found his path blocked.

Hermione was sitting on the steps with her head in her hands. Draco stopped in the middle of the Entrance Hall and stared at her for a good couple of minutes before she finally noticed him. She jumped to her feet and took a few steps towards him before stopping herself. They stared at each other for a few long seconds, and then Hermione threw her arms around him.

"I'm s-s-sorry!" she wailed, crying as he awkwardly patted her on the back.

"Y-yeah, it's fine," he kept repeating as she cried.

"It's n-not fine!" she wept. "I had n-no right giving you t-that ultimatum! Y-you have n-no reason to forgive me! I f-feel awful—"

"Hermione, stop," said Draco, releasing her and looking her in the eyes with both his hands on her shoulders. "Look, you did what I wanted you to do—you came to your senses about how ridiculous this whole thing is and you owned up to it."

Hermione stared at him with sparkling eyes.

"It's fine," he whispered in a soft voice. "I promise."

"It is?" she asked.

"Yeah," said Draco, laughing lightly. "Come on, did you ever doubt that even for a second?"

"I don't know…" said Hermione. "Maybe…"

"You're—my— _best_ — _friend_ —Hermione—and—you—always—will—be."

Hermione smiled.

* * *

Draco and Blaise met up with Hermione in the Entrance Hall the following morning amidst the crowd of students waiting to leave. After a long talk with Hermione the previous night, Draco had managed to convince her to accompany him and Blaise to Hogsmeade. They were standing by the oak front doors and waiting as Professor McGonagall and Filch walked around collecting permission forms. Draco watched them nervously while Blaise entertained Hermione with a dirty joke he'd read in _Witch Weekly_ about a hag, a donkey and a poltergeist.

Draco scanned the crowd of students for any sign of Sirius, but he was nowhere to be found. Maybe he was already there…or maybe he was leaving later and was just going to meet Draco in front of the Three Broomsticks at 12, just like they'd agreed. But as Draco watched McGonagall walk around and collect forms, his stomach turned over. If it turned out that he didn't have permission to go after all…

"…and then, he says, 'I don't want buttercup, I want peanut!'" said Blaise, roaring with laughter.

Hermione smiled weakly. "I don't get it."

"You know, 'cause her name is Peanut?" said Blaise, still laughing. "Peanut and Buttercup!"

"Give it up, Blaise, you're not funny," Draco told him.

Blaise shrugged and Hermione smiled again. At that moment, Professor McGonagall reached them and Draco's heart stopped.

"Zabini, Granger, Malfoy," said Professor McGonagall, shuffling the forms in her hands. "Your permission slips, please."

Hermione and Blaise handed theirs over and McGonagall turned to Draco expectedly.

"I—"

"Professor Snape has already informed me of the matter, Mr. Malfoy," said McGonagall, and she turned away from him and moved on to Pansy and Regina, who were standing nearby.

Hermione looked at Draco hopefully and he smiled weakly. So though Sev had been kind of distant lately, at least he hadn't forgotten what he'd promised to do. Draco made a mental note to thank him later.

Finally, once McGonagall and Filch were finished with the collecting, the students stormed out of the front doors and hurried their way down the twisting path for Hogsmeade Station. The sky above was gloomy and grey, but this did not ruin anyone's spirits as the students, particularly the third years, were overjoyed at this first Hogsmeade weekend of the year.

When they finally got there, Draco, Blaise and Hermione stopped in the middle of the path to take it all in. Hogsmeade Village was a series of shops lined up in curves and diagonals along a path that climbed up a hill. Each of the shops was labelled and villagers were walking along the paths, chatting about the terrible weather or dementor sightings.

"Here? In Hogsmeade?" said Hermione, alarmed.

"Sev told me that the teachers have been working at making sure they don't go near us, so we should be fine," Draco told her.

"I see what I came here for," said Blaise, his eyes landing on Honeydukes Cellar.

The next hour and a half was an array of gasps and finger-pointing as the three made their way from shop to shop, each time leaving with the money pouches slightly lighter than the last. Blaise had bought everything on Avery's list, while Draco cursed under his breath for forgetting Crabbe's and Goyle's lists back at the dormitory. He'd been so anxious that morning about possibly not getting to go at all, that it had completely slipped his mind.

"I'm sure they'll forgive you," Hermione told him, encouragingly, as the three entered Zonko's Joke Shop. "Besides, there are plenty more Hogsmeade weekends scheduled for this year."

"Yeah, I guess," said Draco, his eyes landing on one of those hundreds of Wanted posters splattered all around the village with Pettigrew's face on them. "So...how's...homework going?"

"It's fine," Hermione answered. "Same as usual, you?"

"Yeah, same," he answered.

It had been such a long time since they'd had a normal conversation. Last night had just been a lot of crying and apologising...but they still had yet to catch up on what they'd missed over the last two months.

"How's that fat cat of yours?" Draco wondered. "Still alive?"

" _Crookshanks_ ," Hermione told him, "And yes, of course! He's absolutely amazing, thank you very much."

"You're crazy," Draco told her, shaking his head at her.

She laughed.

"How about Sirius? How's all that going?"

"Really good," Draco answered as he moved to examine a shelf full of strangely colourful objects.

"Oy," cried Blaise suddenly, from the other end of the shop. "Less talking, more shopping, you two!"

After Zonko's, Blaise and Draco decided that it was time to get lunch, but Hermione was very wary about this.

"Come on, aren't you starving?" said Blaise.

"I could eat," said Hermione, "But…" she looked up at the dark sky. "I don't think we should stay here any longer. It's getting really dark up there. We should probably head back up to the school."

"We will…soon!" said Blaise. "Come on, I wanna try those Butterbeer thingies."

But just before they could cross the street to get to the Three Broomsticks, Longbottom and Weasley appeared, each holding what looked like heavy bags.

"Hey Neville!" said Hermione, brightly.

"Hi Hermione," he answered. His eyes flickered over Draco and the two of them nodded at each other.

"What are you guys doing?" Longbottom asked. Beside him, Ron was watching Blaise with caution.

"Not much," Hermione answered. "We're probably gonna head back up to the school now."

"Speak for yourself!" cried Blaise. "I wanna go to the Three Broomsticks."

"Oh we just dropped Harry off there," said Longbottom, also looking at Blaise with caution.

"Potter?" said Blaise. Longbottom nodded and turned back to Draco.

"Hello Draco."

"Hey there Longbottom," said Draco. "How's the toad?"

Hermione kicked his foot. He tried to ignore the stubbing pain as Longbottom answered, "He's been feeling a bit ill lately, but thanks for asking."

"So what's Potter doing at the Three Broomsticks without you lot?" Blaise wondered after an awkward moment's silence.

"He's with Sirius," Weasley answered, in a sort of grunt.

"He is?" said Draco, suddenly.

"Yeah, what's it to you?" said Weasley.

"How long ago did you drop him off there?" Draco asked Longbottom, ignoring Weasley's remark.

"Just two minutes ago," said Longbottom. "They said they wanted to talk."

"Oh," said Draco.

Hermione turned to him. "It's fine, let them talk. You guys will talk another time."

"Yeah," said Draco, slowly. "Yeah, you're right."

He'd only wanted to ask Sirius what he thought about the whole hippogriff thing and Draco's involvement in it…and maybe get his opinion on his father and what kind of man he is or used to be back in the war…but Weasley and Longbottom bid their farewells and started down the path back to the castle, Draco decided that both his father and the hippogriff could wait.

"Hi," said Pansy Parkinson's voice.

Draco and the others turned around to find both Pansy and Regina walking towards them, both holding shopping bags as well.

"Hey there," said Blaise. "What you girls up to?"

"The obvious," said Pansy, lifting her bags so he could see.

Her eyes lingered over Hermione for a fraction of a second before she turned to Draco.

"You going back yet? I wanna get to the library as soon as possible."

Hermione cringed, and Pansy did not pretend not to notice.

"Something the matter?" she asked.

"No," said Hermione, quickly. "Everything is fine."

"So," said Pansy, turning back to Draco. "Are you?"

"Uh," he said, glancing sideways at Hermione. "N-no not yet, I don't think."

"Shame," said Pansy. "I could use you."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at this, but said nothing. Beside her, Blaise was trying to get Regina to feel his bicep, and to Draco's astonishment, she was falling for it.

"Okay, we're gonna go," Pansy said finally.

She pulled Regina away from Blaise and the two started down the path towards the castle.

"Ah," said Blaise, sighing happily as he watched them go. " _So_ close."

"Get a grip, man," said Draco.

Hermione shook her head, laughing. She then turned to face him.

"You know what? I think I'll go catch up with Neville and Ron."

"What, you sure?" said Draco.

"Yeah," she said, smiling. "Yeah, this has been fun. It's been _really_ fun. But you guys go on—I want to go back to the castle anyway, I'm tired."

"Are you sick?" Draco wondered.

"Just a stomach ache," said Hermione. "I'll be fine."

"Don't die on us, Granger," said Blaise.

"I won't," she smiled. "And it's _Hermione,_ Blaise."

"It'll always be 'Granger' to me," he promised her.

She shook her head again. "See you boys later."

"Bye," said Draco.

They watched her run down the path to join Weasley and Longbottom. Then, Blaise turned to Draco.

"So, Three Broomsticks?"

"No," said Draco, boldly.

"Oh why not?"

"Because I don't really fancy running into Potter there with _my_ cousin."

"Alright, alright," said Blaise, groaning as he turned to look at the pub again.

"Look Blaise, just go yourself, "said Draco. "I'm sure Theo is in there somewhere."

"Well what are you gonna do?"

"I'll go catch up with the girls."

Blaise bit his lip. "Alright fine, but _stay away from Rickford_."

"With pleasure," Draco promised him, and he was off.

But it wasn't long before he turned around to find Blaise walking just behind him.

"Couldn't trust me, could you?" said Draco, smirking.

Blaise smirked back. "Not really. Besides, Butterbeer can wait until next time."

"True."

They caught up with Regina and Pansy in no time, and chatted about the latest _Witch Weekly_ scandal until somehow—Draco wasn't sure _how_ —Blaise had managed to convince Regina to take a different route with him. They drifted away from Draco and Pansy, both of them laughing hysterically about something, and Regina flipping her blonde hair over and over again.

"Where did those two run off to?" Pansy wandered as she and Draco continued down the usual path.

"I dunno," shrugged Draco. "Blaise seems to think he can charm your friend."

"'Charm' her?" said Pansy, her eyebrows raised.

Draco nodded.

"Wow," she said, laughing. "I did not expect that."

"Ah well, it's Blaise," said Draco, simply.

He slipped his hands in his pockets and slowed his pace to suit that of Pansy's.

"Do you know what," she said, conversationally, "I'm feeling very positive about this whole hippogriff thing."

"Are you?"

"Yeah, I think I am…I think it's looking very good. The odds are in my favour anyway, and that oaf has always been miserably attached to pathetic creatures, or from what I've heard."

"What did your parents say about it?"

"My mother," Pansy corrected. "She's being really supportive. She's been talking to people at the ministry back and forth these last couple of weeks and I think they're almost ready to set a date for the trial."

"A trial?" said Draco. "Like…like at the Wizengamot?"

"The very same," said Pansy.

"Wow."

"Yeah, it's gonna be this whole big thing—I think they'll require Hagrid to come with that beast of his."

"Good luck to the both of them," said Draco.

Pansy laughed, and then glanced over her shoulder again.

"Do you think they'll be joining us again soon or maybe we'll just see them at the castle?"

"The last one I think," said Draco. "You know what, we should pick up the pace. It looks like there's gonna be a storm any minute now."

"Yeah okay," said Pansy, following him as they hurried along the path. She glanced down at his hands and frowned. "You haven't bought anything."

"What?—Oh, yeah…."

"Do you not like Hogsmeade?"

"No, it's not that," Draco mumbled. "It's awesome."

"Well then why—?"

"I just didn't feel like buying anything," he interrupted. "You don't have to buy something when you're in Hogsmeade, you know."

"Alright, I'm sorry," Pansy muttered.

A moment of silence ensued as they picked up the pace even more. Thunder sounded somewhere in the distance.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Pansy asked.

"It's a free country," said Draco.

Pansy paused. "Why are you so willing to help me with this hippogriff thing?"

"Um," said Draco. "I…don't really know." Even without looking at her, he could tell that her eyes were on him. "I guess…I don't like that miserable oaf almost as much as you don't…"

"That's not a good enough reason," said Pansy, almost immediately. "I'm looking to destroy someone's life here. Yeah, some may say that it's mean and heartless of me, but it's just how I am. The way I see it, it's _justice_ is what it is. But you…you don't seem like you rationalise like that…"

"And why not?" Draco shot at her. "I'm just as Slytherin as you are."

"That's not what I meant," said Pansy. "You seem like you have greater meaning behind all this…sitting in that old library with me and Regina almost every night when you're not busy, poring over annoying, dirty books for information that could help with this case. You can't hate Hagrid _that_ much."

"I never said I hated him," Draco said, almost instantly. "Hate is a powerful word, Parkinson. I'm just saying—"

"You can relax, you know," she interrupted. "Your pal Granger isn't here to scold you for being rude or whatever."

Draco sighed.

"What was she doing here anyway?"

"Blaise and I invited her."

"Did you?"

Draco nodded, feeling relieved that they'd steered the conversation from the dangerous waters. He was not very keen on trying to explain his reasoning for helping Pansy, when even he did not know himself exactly why he was doing it.

"That wasn't very smart," Pansy scoffed.

"How do you mean?"

"Well…it's obvious, isn't it…?"

"What is?"

She raised her eyebrows at him. "You know…the way she looks at you…" Draco waited for clarification, while Pansy waited for acknowledgement. When neither came, she gasped lightly. "You really don't know?"

"Know _what_?" said Draco, a little annoyed.

"Nothing!" said Pansy, instantly. "It's nothing. Come on, I can already feel raindrops on my hair."

Before Draco could prod her for any more information as to what she'd meant, she ran off in the direction of the castle, her shopping bags dangling from either side of her as she went. Draco stood in the middle of the path, watching. It was a while before Draco realised that Blaise was standing right in front him, his eyebrows raised as he waved his hands in front of Draco.

"What?!" Draco snapped.

"Oh good, you're finally awake," cried Blaise. "What are you doing out here in the rain, man?"

Draco suddenly snapped out of it, and in doing so, realised how completely drenched he was. Blaise was squinting at him through the pouring rain. He grabbed his shoulder and pulled him towards the castle. His and Avery's shopping bags were hidden safely beneath his cloak. Behind them, a mass of Hogwarts students were hurrying along the path, shrieking.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **And also... I know I said there wouldn't be OC's in this story, but Regina Rickford will be the only one, I promise. Her purpose is that I needed another Slytherin girl that I could make a more prominent character. I'm already using Pansy and Millicent but I needed one more and I couldn't find any other names that came to mind. I know, I know...Daphne Greengrass..and Astoria too...but what makes you guys think they already won't be making an appearance later? :P**


	24. Year 3: Rats, Dogs, and Snakes

**A/N : My computer has officially crashed...I'd written Harry's POV for the chapter and then I was going to write the rest when it happened. That's right, I wrote all of Draco's POV for this chapter on mobile. I'm not crazy, just super dedicated. No need to thank me. Anyway, hoping you guys haven't given up on the story because I haven't. Hopefully my computer situation will get fixed soon and when it does, I promise I'll take two or three days to do nothing but write so that I could finish off year 3 really quickly and get to the excitement of year 4. **

**Enjoy the chapter because a lot of blood, sweat and tears were shed for it. Literally.**

 **And you guys better review. I'm like dying here, trying to get chapters out on a tiny smartphone keyboard. . .and the mobile version of this site is really buggy.**

 **Disclaimer : Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks**

* * *

CHAPTER 24: YEAR 3—RATS, DOGS AND SNAKES

* * *

 _Harry_

* * *

 _"...I don't know what's happening yet," Sirius told him. "But I do know that Dumbledore will do everything in his power to help Hagrid and that hippogriff. Okay, Harry?"_

 _He opened the bedroom door and Harry exited the room._

 _"We haven't heard the end of this," Sirius promised, flicking his wand to turn off the lights before closing the door behind him..._

* * *

Harry's next dementor-repelling lesson with Sirius was the following Saturday at 9 o'clock, which also happened to be Halloween night. Halloween had always been a particularly special holiday for the Potters because it marked the anniversary of that fatal night all those years ago when Voldemort had marked them as his next victims. And so, when Harry awoke bright and early that Halloween morning, he couldn't think of anything else.

Ron and Neville asked him several times what was wrong and why he was so quiet at breakfast, but he only shrugged them off and buried himself in newspapers or books. Even Dean and Seamus were giving him strange looks now, because eating breakfast with a book propped up against the orange juice pitcher was more characteristic for Neville or Hermione instead.

But as the day went on, Harry found himself growing more uneasy, and by lunchtime, for the first time ever, he was seriously considering talking to an adult about that night and asking for the truth about what had really happened.

"Dumbledore!" Neville hissed at him when he told him about this quietly near the end of lunch. "Talk to Dumbledore!"

"No," Harry hissed back. "I don't want to talk to Dumbledore. He's the guy you go to when you have something very serious going on, and I don't have something very serious going on."

"But—"

"I'm just curious, that's all," Harry concluded.

But this wasn't reason enough for Neville. The rest of the day, he tried to convince Harry that Dumbledore was the person to go to. He annoyed Harry to the point when Harry wished he hadn't confided in Neville what he was thinking. Ron would've been a better choice—he practically always agreed with everything Harry said or did.

"Nah, forget Dumbledore," Ron confirmed when Harry told _him_ all of this during the big Halloween Feast. "It's not that big a deal—you just wanna ask a couple of questions, right?"

"Right," Harry nodded, glancing at Neville who shook his head in disapproval.

"It's not that big, you don't have to go bother Dumbledore with it," Ron confirmed.

Harry nodded again. Then, Ron turned around in his seat to face Ginny, who was sitting just next to him.

"Do you know what today is?"

She stared at him. "Uh, _Halloween_?"

"Well yeah, but do you know what else today is?" said Neville.

Ginny frowned at them.

"Saturday?"

"And?" said Harry.

She bit her lip. "I don't know."

"Today is one year since your first attack here at Hogwarts," Harry told her.

Ginny's eyes went round. "Is...that...right...?"

"Yep," said the boys together, all of them smiling.

"You should be proud you've made it this far," said Ron.

"Yeah, it's been a whole two months of the new year and you haven't gotten so much as a scratch yet," said Neville.

" _Even_ from Quidditch," Harry nodded.

Ginny smiled vaguely. "Y-yeah, it's great."

"So that means we can put all of last year behind us!" said Neville, excited.

The castle ghosts then entered the Great Hall, which fell silent in preparation for their annual Halloween show.

After the show, Harry bid the others goodnight and headed off to Sirius' office alone, his mind wandering. He turned the corner at the end of the hall and climbed some steps. As he drew nearer to the Dark Arts office, he found himself wanting to ask Sirius all about 'that night'. He knew that if he did, Sirius would tell him everything. He wouldn't lie to him...not about this.

Harry finally reached the door, turned the handle and let himself in. He turned to face Sirius and tell him all that was on his mind—all that had been troubling him not only that day, but perhaps for the last thirteen years altogether.

The trouble was...Sirius was not alone in the room.

* * *

" _Malfoy_?" said Harry, letting the door shut behind him. "What are you doing here?"

"I might ask you the same thing," said Malfoy, who was staring at Harry from across the room with just as much distaste as Harry was staring at him.

Sirius stood in between them with his hands in his pockets and a strange expression on his face.

"Ah Harry," he said. "Glad you could make it. Have a seat, boys."

He pointed them to a pair of desks at the front of the classroom. Hesitating slightly, they sat next to each other and Sirius leaned against his own desk, facing them.

"Sirius, what's going on?" Harry asked him, slowly.

Sirius took a deep breath. "I've been meeting with you both on weekend nights for lessons on how to repel the dementors."

" _You have?"_ said Harry and Malfoy together. They looked sideways at each other, and then back at Sirius.

"I've decided that it'll be better if I teach you both together," Sirius went on, "Which is why the three of us will have lessons together on Fridays at 9 o'clock in the evening every week."

"Okay, you're kidding me right now, right?" said Harry, who jumped up from the desk.

Sirius only blinked at him.

"You're _joking_ , right?" Harry repeated, a little more panicked this time.

"Harry," said Sirius.

"No!" cried Harry, looking round at Malfoy, who remained seated at his desk. "No, I'm not doing lessons with this kid, okay? I mean it's bad enough that we have classes together during the day without adding any extras at night!"

"Harry," said Sirius, again, but Malfoy also got to his feet slowly.

"As much as I hate to say this, I'm with him," he told Sirius. "I just don't really fancy the two of us spending any more time together than we need to."

"He's right," said Harry, who couldn't believe his ears as he said these words. He crossed his arms now and looked at Sirius.

Sirius watched the two of them carefully for a long time.

"So you guys are giving me an ultimatum then, huh?" he said, thoughtfully. "It's either I teach you separately or I don't teach you at all?"

"Yeah," they said together, Harry cringing.

Sirius frowned again. "Well you see, boys, this whole teacher thing is pretty new to me. But from what I've gathered…I have way more power now than I did when I was a student here." He stepped away from his desk and walked around it to take a seat. "And what that means, is that I can make you both report to my office at 9 o'clock every Friday night for a lesson." He paused and then smirked. "So that's what I'm gonna do!"

"WHAT?!" cried Harry before Malfoy could say anything. "Sirius, you can't! You…it…I won't let…"

"Sorry Harry, but I _am_ your teacher when we're both here at school," said Sirius, simply.

Harry's eyes widened at this. Malfoy sank back into his chair and stared at a random spot in the corner.

"I have to treat you like I treat all the rest of my students," Sirius went on, sounding less and less like himself by the minute. When he stopped at the horrified looks on Harry's and Malfoy's faces, Sirius sighed. "Look guys, I know you have this whole war thing going on here. Remus told me all about it. But since the three of us now have a… _special_ connection, I'm gonna make you guys get along so that Christmases and birthdays won't be so awkward…"

"Sirius," said Harry. "You can't make us into friends, so you might as well give up now."

"Harry," said Sirius. "I can do _everything_. Haven't you already figured that out?"

Harry glared at him. "I'm not gonna do the lessons."

"Oh yes you will."

" _No, I will not_ ," Harry contradicted, feeling himself getting angry at Sirius for the first time ever.

Sirius frowned at him from behind his desk and leaned forwards.

"Your mother won't be too happy then, when I write to tell her that you are refusing lessons on how to repel the dementors…especially since there are so many of them now present at Hogwarts _and_ Hogsmeade. And especially since they seem to like coming after _you_ more than anyone else..."

"You wouldn't," Harry hissed.

"Happy Halloween," said Sirius, grinning.

Harry watched him for a long time, feeling sure that he was bluffing. But for once, Sirius was not joking. He was totally and completely serious about this. So Harry did the only thing he could think of at this point. He turned to Malfoy.

"Please tell me at least _you_ aren't on board with this," he told him.

Malfoy stared at him for a moment and then looked back at Sirius.

"Sirius, I don't know," he admitted. "It's not really my...I mean I honestly don't..."

"You can't threaten _him_ with this," Harry cut in. Sirius frowned at him. " _His_ parents wouldn't want him to learn how to repel the dementors. They'd probably rather he _befriended_ them instead."

Sirius stared at Harry, but he only stood there with his arms still crossed. _Well of course they did, those pureblooded freaks._ Harry had done his best not to bother Malfoy at all since their truce last year. But ever since the whole deal with Hagrid and his hippogriff occurred, Harry had wanted to have a crack at Malfoy. It really was very unnecessary for him to help Parkinson in building her case against Hagrid and the hippogriff, but Malfoy was being very stubborn about it. So now, Harry was willing to get himself involved and break the truce if needed.

"That's true," said Sirius, suddenly. "I can't threaten you and I can't make you stay here, Draco." He paused. "But I'd like you to." Harry's jaw dropped. "We haven't known each other for very long. I've lost so much time with you…and I'd like to make some of it back. And I thought these Friday night lessons would be a good way to start…if you're up to it, of course."

Malfoy hesitated, and then nodded. Harry glared at Sirius.

"So you won't threaten him? You'll _guilt_ him?"

Sirius shrugged. "His parents don't care as much—yours do." He pulled out his wand and flashed them both a grin. "Ready?"

Harry sighed and pulled out his own wand, while Malfoy did the same beside him.

"Just get on with it," Harry mumbled.

All in all, it hadn't been too horrible of a lesson. They'd spent most of it in complete silence, both of them concentrating hard on finding that one memory that would be strong enough for producing this Patronus Charm thing. The last time, Harry had tried a Quidditch memory. This time, he used one of his best birthday memories. But it was like Sirius had said—he'd need to work harder to find that one, singular, most exciting moment of his life. On the plus side, however, Malfoy seemed to be struggling with it just as much, which pleased Harry a little bit. He felt himself like a little kid again, refusing to let Malfoy be the first to produce the patronus before he can get the hang of it himself.

"How was the lesson?" said Neville when Harry finally returned to the common room.

"Dull," Harry admitted, taking a load off on the couch.

Ron was snoozing in an armchair nearby, and Ginny and Hermione were in the middle of a game of Wizard's Chess. By the looks of it, Ginny was winning. Harry watched them lazily for a while with Neville.

"Hi Harry," said a voice.

Harry turned around on the couch and found Lavender standing before him, smiling.

"Oh hey," he said. "How's it going?"

"Fine," she said, shrugging. "I was just wondering where you were earlier…"

"Oh," said Harry. "Yeah, I was with Sirius."

"Right," said Lavender. "He's your godfather, isn't he?"

Harry nodded.

"That's pretty cool," said Lavender. "Anyway, see you."

Harry turned back around in his seat and found Neville smirking.

"What?" said Harry.

"Nothing," said Neville, innocently. "Hey, so did you ask Sirius about," he lowered his voice, "you-know-what?"

Harry shook his head. The idea of talking to Sirius about 'that night' had completely escaped his head at the sight of Draco Malfoy in that classroom. But now, it seemed like it was so long ago and so unimportant. He had bigger things to worry about now…like how Sirius was soon going to become best pals with Malfoy. That _definitely_ was a problem for Harry.

"Rook," he mouthed at Ginny now. She glanced down at the board in front of her, frowned for a minute, then smiled and moved her rook four places to kill off Hermione's knight and thus achieve a checkmate.

Hermione sighed, congratulated Ginny, and then excused herself and went off to bed. Neville followed shortly after, while Ron let his head drop to the armchair's side and continued to sleep.

"Thanks," Ginny said, taking a seat next to Harry with Hermione's fat ginger cat purring at her feet.

"No problem," he said, sleepily.

They stared at the fireplace in front of them for a while. Various students throughout the common room soon started to head off to bed. Tomorrow was promised to be a very rainy day, so everyone was in a rather sleepy mood. Harry himself felt incredibly tired.

"Um," said Ginny, suddenly. Harry turned to look at her. "Have you…have you seen any of those…dementors yet?"

Harry stared at her. "You mean like in general?"

"I mean around the castle," said Ginny. "They're guarding the castle and everything, but no one ever really sees them. Have…have you?"

Harry paused for a moment, wondering why she was asking him this, and then shook his head.

"I have," she mumbled.

Crookshanks the cat now hopped into her lap and she began to absentmindedly scratch him behind the ears.

"When?" said Harry.

"At night." Ginny took a deep breath. "I see them outside my window sometimes…they're _creepy_."

"They are scary," Harry admitted. "But you don't have anything to worry about. They won't hurt you while you're inside." Ginny gulped nervously. "And when you're on your way to the Herbology greenhouses or even to Hagrid's Hut, they're probably off somewhere far. Dumbledore makes sure of that. They don't just roam around the sky, waiting to capture you."

"Sometimes I feel like they do," Ginny admitted.

Harry smiled at her. "You shouldn't worry about that stuff." He paused. "What you _should_ worry about is our next Quidditch match. It's gonna be awesome."

Ginny smiled.

"Do you even like Quidditch?" Harry wondered.

"What?" said Ginny. "Yeah, of course! Why would you ask me that?"

"I dunno," he mumbled. "Just wondering…"

"I love it," Ginny assured him. "I'm just…I dunno, what you guys said to me today about last year just kind of had me thinking all night."

"Yeah," said Harry. "Me too."

"I'm glad this year is off to a better start," Ginny said in a quiet voice after a moment's silence. "It's been a relief."

"For sure," Harry agreed.

Ron then gave a loud snort in his sleep, making Crookshanks jump from Ginny's lap. Ginny giggled.

The next couple of days were certainly chilly, and the colder they got, the more homework the third years seemed to get. Harry and Ron were barely able to find time to even think about Quidditch, let alone anything else. Neville and Hermione came up with a study schedule for all of their friends to completely ignore.

"Good study habits will come in handy when it's time to take our OWLs," Hermione informed their classmates in the common room one night.

"Yeah, we could all come up with little study groups and just work together some nights when we're bored or have nothing else to do," said Neville.

Ron choked on his water. Neither he nor Harry seemed to comprehend the concept of 'additional studying', though Harry knew that he would still have to achieve acceptable enough grades to please his mother, who was as crazy about school as his father was about Quidditch.

"Well they must be oh so proud of Neville," Ron said after he'd told him this.

Harry's next lunch with Sirius was probably the most awkward hour he'd ever spent with him. For the first ten minutes, they ate in complete silence.

"So how are your classes going then?" Sirius finally asked.

"Fine," Harry said without looking up from his plate.

More silence.

"Did you, uh, get any letters from your parents lately?"

"One," said Harry. "Mum reminded me to study and dad said he'll try to make it to the match next weekend."

"Oh good, good," said Sirius. "We'll sit together if he does."

Harry nodded.

"Look Harry," said Sirius, setting his fork down. Harry looked up at him. "I really am sorry about the whole dementor lesson thing with Draco."

"Well then why are you forcing us into it?"

"Because the kid's my cousin, Harry," said Sirius, almost desperately. "And you're my godson— _and_ one of my best friends." Harry smiled at this. "Surely I can't go on talking to both of you if you refuse to talk to each other…"

"We don't _refuse_ ," Harry began. "We actually called a truce last year and everything."

"You did?" frowned Sirius.

"Yeah," said Harry.

"So what changed then?"

"Hmm, something about a hippogriff attack and Malfoy being a nosey git for coming after Hagrid…"

"Ah," said Sirius. He then frowned again. "Harry, did it ever occur to you that growing up in a pureblood household is not the easiest thing in the world?"

"Uh, dad grew up in a pureblood household," Harry reminded him. "Ron comes from a pureblood family. Even Neville's a pureblood."

"Yes of course," said Sirius. "But these are all rare cases of decent wizarding families. The Malfoys, as far as I know, haven't been decent in decades."

"Well so what?" said Harry. "Does that mean he has to go and punish Hagrid just because his own life has been miserable this whole time?"

"You don't understand," said Sirius. "Just…promise me you won't throw jabs or insults at his family or his upbringing."

"But—"

"You've no idea what it's like to grow up in that kind of a family."

"Sirius, I—"

"Promise me, Harry."

Harry looked him in the eye, then closed his mouth and nodded.

"Thank you," said Sirius, smiling at once. "So," he picked up his fork and resumed eating. "Would you like to hear about the girl I've sent Remus' way?"

"W-what?" said Harry.

Sirius grinned.

"Her name is Nymphadora. She thinks she's coming over for a date. He thinks she's coming over for private tutoring."

"N-Nymphadora?"

"You know, Moony's last cycle was terrible and all…and they've been getting worse and worse…and he's not currently working…I thought I'd find him a little bit of a distraction. You know, a pick-me-up."

" _Nymphadora_?"

"Yeah," laughed Sirius. "But she goes by Tonks. She hates her name."

"Yeah, I can see why," said Harry. "How d'you find her?"

When Sirius said nothing, Harry frowned.

"Wait," he said, watching Sirius' expression change. "Did you say _Tonks_?"

Sirius nodded slowly.

"So Uncle Ted has a sister then?" said Harry.

Sirius reddened slightly.

"She's Andy's daughter, Harry."

Harry stared at him.

"Uh Sirius, I don't know if you know this but Aunt Andy's like four years older than you…not even." When Sirius said nothing, Harry's eyes widened. "Exactly _how old_ is her daughter?"

Sirius bit his lip. "Well technically…she's twenty."

" _Twenty?!"_

"Yeah, but Remus thinks she's twenty-five!" Sirius defended.

"And how old does she think Remus is?" said Harry.

Sirius paused again. "You know…an age."

"Oh that's nice," said Harry. "I can't believe you set this up."

"Hey, he needed it, man," said Sirius. "And she's pretty brilliant too. She's on her way to becoming an auror." When Harry didn't look impressed, Sirius added "I don't regret this one bit."

"I'm sure mum will make you regret it once she finds out," Harry mumbled.

"Yeah but that's a problem for later," said Sirius, dismissively. "Anyway, can you imagine the look on old Moony's face when he realises that he's on a date with Andy's daughter?"

Harry cracked a smile. "Does _she_ know who Remus is?"

"Well if she doesn't know how old he is, what do _you_ think, Harry?" said Sirius.

Harry laughed.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Well who else am I gonna laugh about it with?" said Sirius. "Your dad couldn't keep a secret from your mum even if he wanted to. And besides, you're not a child anymore."

"Well what about _Draco_?" said Harry. "Why not laugh with _him_ about this?"

"Because he doesn't know Remus like you and I do," said Sirius. "I doubt he even knows who Andy is—his mother _hates_ her."

Harry grinned again.

"I still can't believe you did this. I wouldn't have had the guts to."

"It helps that I grew up with your dad," Sirius admitted. "Otherwise I wouldn't have been so keen on meddling in others' lives probably."

"Well what about Pettigrew?" Harry blurted out.

Sirius' expression grew hard and he looked back down at his plate again. "What about him?"

"Well you guys all grew up together," said Harry. "So what was he like then?"

"Different," said Sirius after a moment's silence.

"Sirius, please tell me about it," said Harry. Sirius looked up at him. "About your childhood…about Pettigrew…about all of it."

"Why are you asking me this, Harry?" said Sirius.

Harry hesitated. "Because no one else will tell me."

Sirius nodded.

"He followed us around school a lot," he finally said. "Even then, I knew he was a follower, not a leader. He used to do everything we told him to. He was always there for us to play around with."

"How do you mean?" said Harry.

"Well we didn't bully him or anything," Sirius defended instantly. "No, that was the _Slytherins_ ' job. We were there to protect him every time they hung him by his shirt on a tree or broke his glasses…yeah, he had glasses back in his first couple of years here."

"But he was a Gryffindor, like the rest of you guys," Harry concluded. "So how did he end up—?"

"How did he end up betraying us?" said Sirius. "I reckon the Sorting Hat was drunk when McGonagall got to the letter P, because only then would it have been stupid enough to place such a coward in Gryffindor… _and_ such a git like your father too."

Harry grinned.

"As far as I'm concerned though," said Sirius, "Wormtail never belonged in Gryffindor."

"So what happened?"

Sirius sighed. "When we finished school, Dumbledore recruited us for the Order. The war was just reaching its peak then, and so he needed all the people he could get. Yes Harry, Wormtail was also in the Order with us, along with everybody else…Neville's parents, Remus, Andy, most of your teachers…" Sirius paused. "But sometime between then and the night Voldemort came after you, Wormtail turned over to the dark side and became a spy for him."

Harry held his breath. They were getting to the good parts now…the parts he'd been dying to ask someone about for over two months now. However, just before Sirius could tell him about 'that night', the bell sounded from the distance and Sirius glanced at his clock and jumped to his feet.

"I'm sorry Harry, I'm really late. I have to go escort the first-year Gryffindors to Hagrid's Hut."

"What for?" said Harry, also getting up and helping Sirius clear up their lunch plates.

"They've been assigned some rubbish task to clear up some vegetable stuff, I dunno," Sirius mumbled. "You have Transfiguration now?"

"Uh yeah," said Harry, stumbling out of the office with Sirius.

"Don't be late or McGonagall will have my head for it," Sirius warned him.

"I won't," said Harry. "Bye then."

He walked along the corridors amidst hordes of students chattering about random stuff. His mind was clouded completely and he kept his eyes on the ground in concentration. The scene of a dog, a stag, a werewolf and a rat chasing around in the Forbidden Forest was playing over and over in his mind. The whole thing made him sick—thinking about how Pettigrew had been his dad's, Sirius' and Remus' best friend and then he'd just betrayed them. Well, Sirius never got to the betrayal part just yet, but Harry was sure he'd get it out of him at their next lunch.

Turning the corner, he walked down some steps and a sudden nasty thought crossed his mind. If someone he thought he knew well ended up betraying him like that…Dean or Seamus or Ron…well, it's be awful. But Harry doubted any of those would hit him as hard as finding Neville out probably would. After all, Neville was like a brother to him, and Harry didn't really fancy having a falling-out like Sirius and his brother did.

Sirius never talked about his brother, but Harry knew enough. They'd been close as kids, but then after Regulus was sorted into Slytherin, they stopped talking because their parents favoured him over Sirius. And then Regulus became the youngest Death Eater and ended up getting locked up in Azkaban for something, but Harry never knew what. Now that he thought about it, he didn't know _anything_. And it was about time his parents cleared things up for him. It was like Sirius had said—he was _not_ a child anymore.

When Harry returned to the common room that night, he felt slightly better than he had all week, for some strange reason even he didn't know. Ron was the first to notice and asked him about it right away.

"I've just decided I don't wanna worry about stuff anymore, that's all," Harry said, simply.

He then looked around the noisy common room and leaned forwards to whisper.

"Listen, you wanna take out the cloak and the map for a walk tonight?"

"Yeah, okay!" said Ron, excited.

Parvati Patil then passed by and said, "Hi boys" before giggling and hurrying away to her dormitory. Ron grinned.

"This whole fame thing that you have going on…has been _really_ nice the last couple of days."

"But why are they only noticing now?" said Harry, staring after her.

"Don't you know?" said Ron. "All the girls are worried you'll be kidnapped by Pettigrew one of these days."

Harry smirked. "Here's to hoping—I have a few questions for him myself."

They waited until the common room emptied, and then Harry went to fetch his cloak and the map. They threw the cloak over themselves and snuck out of the common room together, the map held in front of them.

"Wicked," Ron whispered as they watched their own labelled dots slowly move on the map while they walked down the corridor.

They left Gryffindor Tower and made for the second-floor corridor nearest to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, their dots all the while moving on the map.

"Wicked," Ron kept repeating.

On and on they went, from the second to the third to the fourth floors.

"Hey have you ever been in the Prefects' bathroom on the fifth floor?" Ron hissed at Harry. "Apparently, Percy says it's like _royalty_ or whatever. Should we have a go?"

"It's password protected," Harry told him.

"How do you know?" said Ron.

"My mother," said Harry, turning the corner.

"Hey so did you end up asking Sirius?" said Ron.

"Nah," said Harry. "I mean, I got close but then the bell rang."

"Damn," said Ron. "Wish you found out already—I'm curious too, you know."

"Yeah," said Harry. "I did find out a little bit about Pettigrew though."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, about how he betrayed my parents and Sirius and Remus and all that," said Harry.

They turned another corner and climbed some more steps.

"Ron," said Harry. He hesitated. "You wouldn't ever…you know…turn against me, w-would you?"

Ron glanced sideways at him and they both stopped walking to look at each other under the cloak.

"Why would you ask me that?" Ron asked, slowly.

"Because Pettigrew was their best friend in school and then he basically stabbed them in the backs," Harry admitted. "It just made me think that…"

"That what, I would do the same?" said Ron. "You're actually comparing me to _Pettigrew?!"_

"N-no, I'm not!"

"I thought I was a much better friend than that…"

"Ron, I'm not! I'm just…I'm just worried because…well, I want us to always be friends, you know?"

"Well yeah, I want that too!" said Ron. "But like, if you're gonna doubt me like this…"

"I'm not," declared Harry. "I promise. I was just being stupid there for a minute, but I know I don't even have to ask." He smiled. "I promise, Ron."

Ron grinned too. "If I _did_ betray you, it'd probably be in a neater, clever way than Pettigrew."

Harry stared at Ron, and when he flashed him a grin, he pushed him aside. Ron pushed him back and, both of them laughing, they fell to the floor and started kicking each other playfully. The map and the cloak, along with Harry's wand (which had been lit for light) rolled out of his hands and he continued to punch and kick Ron and laugh.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang. Harry and Ron both froze mid-fight on the floor and stared around the dark corridor for the source of it. Something at the end of the corridor seemed to have fallen over.

"H-hello?" said Ron's shaking voice into the darkness.

Harry crawled along the floor until he located his wand.

"Lumos," he muttered, lighting it up again.

Ron picked up the cloak and the map and Harry pointed his wand at it and examined the corridor along which the pair of them were standing.

"Blimey," said Ron. "Did you know we've reached the seventh floor?"

Harry slowly shook his head. His eyes were narrowed on something else…something that was moving rapidly along the end of the very corridor they were in…something that had a very alarming label attached to it.

"Ron," he breathed, pointing at the labelled dot at the end of the corridor.

Ron looked at it for a minute, and then his own eyes widened.

"Quick, the cloak!" Harry hissed.

Ron quickly threw it over them, and together, they started to walk towards the darkness of the corridor. Ron pulled out his own wand and kept it pointing ahead, ready to strike. But when they reached the corridor, they found that no one was there. Yet the dot continued to circle around them, as though confused.

"M-maybe the map's wrong," said Ron.

Harry shook his head. "The map's never wrong."

And that very little fact was very alarming, considering that Peter Pettigrew's own little dot was now running around Harry's and Ron's. Panicked, they twisted and turned under the cloak, looking desperately for a tall figure.

"OH!" Harry hissed suddenly, and he pointed his lit wand at the floor.

In an instant, the pair caught a glimpse of a tail scurrying away. They quickly backed into a wall and watched it chase to the end of the corridor. Harry consulted the map again and saw Pettigrew's dot hurrying down the steps to the sixth floor…then the fifth…then the fourth…

"H-he's getting away!" Ron hissed. "What should we do?"

"Go after him of course!" cried Harry.

They ran along the corridor, letting the cloak fall and Ron catching it in the air, and chased down the steps. But the faster they ran, the faster Pettigrew seemed to run, until Harry and Ron finally reached the Entrance Hall and saw that Pettigrew had already run off into the forest.

Gasping for breath, Harry stared around the corridor, while Ron collapsed on the stone steps.

"How—did—he—get—in?" Ron hissed. "The dementors!"

"They can't sense animals," said Harry. "And Peter Pettigrew is an animagus."

"But how did you know he's a rat?" Ron breathed.

"Sirius," said Harry, still watching the map.

It was too late though. Pettigrew was gone for the night, and there was nothing they could do now.

"Ron," said Harry, turning to look at him. "Get up."

"Where are we going?" said Ron, following him back up the stairs.

"Headmaster's Tower," said Harry, pocketing the map now. "We are going to go see Dumbledore."

* * *

 _Draco_

* * *

 _"...Oh good, you're finally awake," cried Blaise. "What are you doing out here in the rain, man?"_

 _Draco suddenly snapped out of it, and in doing so, realised how completely drenched he was. Blaise was squinting at him through the pouring rain. He grabbed his shoulder and pulled him towards the castle. His and Avery's shopping bags were hidden safely beneath his cloak. Behind them, a mass of Hogwarts students were hurrying along the path, shrieking..._

* * *

"You wanted to see me?" said Draco once he'd entered Sirius' office.

"Yeah, come in and close the door," said Sirius.

Draco shut the door and walked across the office to take a seat at Sirius' desk. He'd never seen him looking so grim and so...serious.

"I-is something wrong?" Draco dared ask.

Sirius sat on the desk and frowned at him. For a long time, he didn't say anything but just continued to look at him. Draco was just starting to think Sirius was gonna leave Hogwarts (or worse) when Sirius' face finally relaxed under the dim lights of the office.

"I wanna start doing private lessons with you," he announced.

Draco sighed.

"I wanna teach you some extra Defense against the Dark Arts. I wanna make you really good at them."

"Wait so that's it?" said Draco. "You're not like...leaving or anything?"

"What?" said Sirius. "No, of course not! Why did you think I would?"

Draco shrugged. "Well everyone knows about the curse on this teaching post...I just thought..."

"Ah, that..." said Sirius. "That doesn't scare me one bit. In fact, I consider it to be a challenge."

Draco grinned at him. "So what did you wanna teach me then?"

"Well, assuming that you're interested," said Sirius, also grinning, "Perhaps repelling the dementors could be our opening lesson?"

"How can you repel dementors?"

"It's called the Patronus Charm, it's this really complicated process thing but it's worth the hussle."

Draco frowned. "And when did you wanna start these dementor repelling lessons?"

Sirius paused. "How about Sunday nights? At, say, 9 o'clock?"

"Sure," said Draco, shrugging.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, count me in."

Sirius smiled.

"So," said Draco, slowly.

"You should probably get going to class now, eh?" said Sirius, glancing at the clock on his desk.

"Uh yeah," said Draco. He stood up and crossed the office. But just as he reached the door, he turned around.

"What's up?" said Sirius, who'd moved to sit at his desk.

"I just..." said Draco, "Um, I talked to Sev the other day."

"Sev?"

"Uh, Professor Snape I mean... and uh, I asked him some stuff about Peter Pettigrew...stuff about him at school and if they knew each other or whatever..."

"I see," said Sirius. "And uh, why are you telling me this?"

Draco bit his lip. "Well because he told me that I should ask you."

Sirius' expression changed instantly. "Did he now?"

"Yeah."

Sirius stared at him for a long time, but when he opened his mouth to speak, the bell sounded from across the castle grounds. Sirius sighed, then picked up his wand and flicked it once so that the door behind Draco opened.

"We'll talk about it some other time," he promised.

"Wait so that's why he called you in?" cried Blaise once Draco had told him, Avery and the others about Sirius' idea at lunch.

"Yep," said Draco. "He wants to teach me on Sunday nights."

"That's like...so messed up," said Blaise. "I mean, I don't get him. Black."

"Jealous much?" said Pansy.

Blaise scowled at her.

"Wait, what?" said Draco. "What's she talking about?"

"Nothing," Blaise grumbled into his plate.

Beside him, Avery was staring at the Gryffindor table for some reason, his eyes sad. When he noticed Draco watching him, he quickly turned back around in his seat and busied himself with his Transfiguration homework.

"Okay, what is going on?" said Draco, looking from Blaise to Avery.

"What are you talking about?" said Blaise.

"Oh don't pretend," said Pansy. "Come on out with it."

"Hey buzz off, will you?" said Blaise.

Draco raised his eyebrows at him. Pansy leaned closer to him.

"I think your friends here are just jealous that you and Professor Black are such good pals now," she said.

"You know, this little friendship of yours is starting to get on my nerves," Blaise told them both.

"Oh your _nerves_ , huh?" said Pansy.

Draco laughed.

The next couple of days saw a definite change in the weather as October slowly drew to a close. Homework was also really starting to pile up, to the point where Draco and Blaise were only meeting up with Pansy and Regina for research sessions twice a week, as opposed to nearly every night, like before. Quidditch practice was also starting to become a bother because Blaise was into the whole 'showing himself off to the team' thing. But what was annoying Draco most of all, was Avery.

For the last few days, he'd been exceptionally quiet. He was acting very strange, always staring off somewhere and tuning out of conversations and hardly even laughing at the boys' jokes. It was like he was always concentrated on something...or someone...

Draco knew better than to ask him about it. This wasn't the way to find stuff out from a Slytherin. He knew he'd have to be sneaky and cautious if he really wanted to know what this was about. But the downside of tailing a fellow Slytherin was that he was very well aware of all the sneaky tactics. He knew how to answer any question without it coming back to him afterwards. That really irritated Draco, who was becoming almost obsessed with finding out what Avery was really up to.

Hermione was usually busy these days with either Longbottom or the Weasley girl, but since she and Draco were on good terms now, he knew that a little distance would do no harm. On the contrary, it would actually make it easier for him to continue helping Pansy with the hippogriff case, without having Hermione always reminding him of how wrong it was what they were doing. As if...

Draco's first lesson with Sirius was definitely unforgettable. They met on a Sunday night in his office just after dinner. Sirius had shut all the curtains and had several candles lit about the room, setting that dark art-y mood. Draco pulled out his wand, excited.

"Okay so the Patronus Charm," said Sirius. "It's a spell that is produced for a number of reasons...to protect you from a variety of different opponents, to send messages to other wizards..."

"Brilliant," said Draco. "What's the incantation?"

"Not yet," said Sirius. "The incantation is not enough. You have to select a memory from your past...the happiest you can remember...and think of that memory and that memory only, when you're trying to cast the spell."

"Well like what kind of memory do you mean?" said Draco.

"It can be anything," said Sirius. "But it has to be the happiest moment you've ever felt. Think of it as a good vs. evil sort of battle. You're fighting the dementors, right? And they suck all the good out of you, leaving you only with the bad. So your task is to bring all the good to surface and sort of slap the dementor in the face with it...well, in the hood actually."

"A happy memory?" Draco whispered, lowering his wand.

Was Sirius joking?

"I realise this may be difficult," he said, slowly. "But that's why we'll do these lessons every week until you get it. I'll help you through every step of the way."

"But I..."

"And for today, we can just brainstorm memories together."

Draco closed his mouth and nodded.

"Any questions so far?" said Sirius, kindly.

"Um," said Draco, sinking back into his seat. "Well I mean, what is this Patronus thing? Like what does it do?"

"It produces a silvery blue sort of shape...an animal that best reflects your personality. That animal acts like a sort of shield. It can also deliver messages."

"Is it the same animal that you'd be as an animagus?"

"I believe so, yes."

"When did you become an animagus?"

"I was in my fifth year here when I finally managed it."

Draco gaped at Sirius.

"Yeah," he said slowly. "For the first couple of years, I was unregistered. But I became registered just after the war so it's all good now."

"I see," said Draco. Sirius really liked breaking rules in just about everything.

"And you just turned into a dog?"

"Hey, it's not easy to do," said Sirius. "If you were animagus, what animal do you think you'd turn into?"

"Probably something Slytherin," Draco grumbled, his eyes staring at his feet.

"So a snake then..." said Sirius.

When Draco looked up, he found him smirking. However Draco was just about to ask Sirius if he'd teach him the animagus process when Sirius clapped his hands together once and sat at his desk.

"So," he said. "Let's talk memories."

Although the lesson had been the most awkward hour of Draco's life, he wasn't sorry to have come. Yeah, he and Sirius dug up his past and yeah, they didn't manage to find anything good enough yet. But that was all to be expected anyway. Draco wasn't at all surprised. It was still worth it though. Any extra time with Sirius was worth it. The lesson passed by so quickly that it was only after Draco got back to the common room that he realised he'd forgotten to ask Sirius about Pettigrew again. He really wanted to know.

"Hey there," said Regina, who was lying down on the couch in the fireplace when Draco got back.

"Hi," he said. "What's up?"

"Just reading," she said.

"Where's...?"

"Your little pals stole Pansy from me for the night. Said they wanted to talk to her."

"About what?" said Draco at once.

Regina shrugged. Draco looked around the common room until his eyes landed on Theo, sitting in the far corner. He marched over to him and Theo looked up from his sketchbook.

"Hey Draco, what's up?" he said.

"Do you know what Avery's been up to lately?" he asked him.

He didn't need to even hear an answer because Theo's face changed instantly. But he still tried to cover it up.

"What are you talking about?"

Git.

"He's been acting really weird lately," said Draco. "You don't know anything about it?"

"No, not a thing."

Liar.

"Well do you know where he is now? And Blaise and Crabbe and Goyle?"

"I don't know about him or Blaise, but Crabbe and Goyle are upstairs in bed already."

Draco looked around the common room again.

"Take a load off," said Theo, shutting his notebook. "Play chess with me."

"Nah, I'm off to bed," lied Draco.

What the hell were those two up to? What were they not telling him?

Draco spent the rest of the week trying to think up a good memory to use for his next lesson with Sirius. He also found Avery was avoiding him...a lot. Blaise was still his usual self, which was at least comforting, but Avery was definitely hiding something.

On Friday night, day before Halloween, Draco turned up at the library to find Regina at their usual table, sitting by herself.

"Where's...?"

"Pansy went to get a teacher's note so we could get into the restricted section," she explained. "Where's your friend?"

"Who knows," sighed Draco, taking a seat at the table and dumping his bag onto the chair next to him. "1Which teacher is Pansy asking?"

"Slughorn," said Regina. "He's the only one stupid enough to actually go for it."

"He's not stupid," said Draco.

Regina raised her eyebrows at him. "My, my, are you actually defending him, Mr. Malfoy?"

"No," said Draco quickly. "I'm just saying...he's not stupid. He taught Sev Potions and Sev is brilliant at it."

"Sev?" said Regina, her eyebrows still raised.

Draco sighed. "Professor Snape."

"Why do you call him Sev?" asked Regina at once.

"It doesn't matter, let's just do this," said Draco, pulling one of the large books to his side and cracking it open.

"Exactly how many of your relatives work here?" said Regina.

"Sev, uh...Professor Snape and I are not related," said Draco. "And for the record, I didn't even know about Sirius until just last year...or, well the year before..."

"Soooo what, you're best friends now?" said Regina.

Draco looked up at her. It was surprisingly easy to actually talk to her. She seemed to be the only one around him lately who was bothering to tell the truth. Everyone nowadays was hiding something. Even Hermione was acting all mysterious and strange.

"I'm sorry," Regina added quickly when Draco didn't answer. "I'm just curious, that's all."

"Yeah I'm curious too," said Draco. "I heard that you're an orphan. That's gotta be rough."

"No, not really," said Regina, simply. "I never knew my parents. It's not like I knew them and then they died."

"So who do you live with then?"

"My aunt. She's my mother's younger sister. She's pretty cool."

"So like, you actually never knew your parents?"

"When I was a baby, yeah...but I don't remember any of that obviously. And anyway, it doesn't matter. We spend most of every year here at school anyway. Who cares who's waiting for us back at home, right?"

Draco let out a light laugh and then looked back down at his book, because what Regina had just said was more than true, and she didn't even know it. Thinking about it now, Draco doubted his parents even knew he'd left for school two months ago.

 _Now you're just being dramatic_ , a voice told him. Well, maybe that was true. He wasn't exactly invisible to them. But he also wasn't a son. He wasn't sure what he was actually...

"I guess Chris has it worse than I do because he actually does remember them," Regina added momentarily.

"Chris?" said Draco.

"My brother?" said Regina. "Honestly, are you even _in_ Slytherin?"

"You...you have a brother?"

"Yeah, he's in sixth year," said Regina, rolling her eyes at him.

"Does he ever tell you...about your parents or...how they died?"

"He says they died in the war," said Regina, shrugging. "But we're not close, me and him. We actually pretend that we don't know each other when we're at school."

"Why?"

"Just cause."

"Ugh," said Pansy, slumping into the seat next to Regina's.

"No luck, then?" she said.

"Apparently, Slughorn is smarter than we thought," said Pansy. "We need a plan B."

"I'll ask Sev," said Draco at once.

"Who?" said Pansy.

"He means Snape," said Regina. "Hey, why not ask Black?"

"Yeah, he's bound to give you the note," said Pansy.

"No," said Draco suddenly. "Sirius is not to know anything about this, okay?" The girls looked at him, both wide-eyed and confused-looking. "I'm serious. He can't know."

"But—"

"I said no," said Draco, boldly.

"Oh you're such a snake," said Pansy.

"You have no idea," said Draco, now getting up and grabbing his bag.

He left the library quickly and made for the dungeons, feeling very good about this new excuse to go and talk to Sev. But it was true what he'd said back there...he really didn't think Sirius would understand if he found out just how much Draco was helping Pansy with this hippogriff thing. Yeah, both he and Sirius had the same backgrounds, but Sirius still grew up in a different world than him completely. He was in Gryffindor and the Order of the Phoenix. He rid himself of his family years and years ago, while Draco was still stuck in prison. It just wasn't a good idea to go there now.

When Draco reached Severus' door and knocked, he wasn't at all surprised to find him at his desk, head bent over piles of paper. It was all he was doing nowadays.

"What's happened?" he said at once.

"Is something always supposed to happen?" said Draco, grinning.

He shut the door behind him and moved to sit in front of Severus.

"Just wanted to see how you were doing, that's all."

"Why?" said Severus.

"Whoa, why are you being defensive all of a sudden?" said Draco. "This isn't like you, Sev. What's going on?"

"Nothing," said Severus, looking back down at his papers. "Look Draco, I have a lot of work to do right now."

"Oh, anything I can help with?"

"No."

Draco paused. "Are you, like, mad that I'm spending so much time with Sirius? Is that it?"

"I don't care what you do in your spare time and whom with, Draco," said Severus, coolly.

Draco narrowed his eyes at him.

"Look I have more important things to worry about than worthless, teenage drama," Severus added after a moment's silence.

"Okay," said Draco, slowly. "I thought you once said that I could come to you anytime...that I could tell you anything."

"You can and you should," said Severus. "But any questions you have about _Peter Pettigrew_ will be best directed at your new _friend_ , not me."

"You're my friend too," Draco pointed out.

Severus sighed.

"What do you want? What is it that you are doing here tonight, Draco?"

Draco got up from the desk.

"I need your permission to get into the restricted section at the library."

"What do you want with the restricted section?" said Severus at once.

"You care?" said Draco, his eyebrows raised.

Severus waited for an answer.

"I'm doing research," said Draco, truthfully.

"On?"

"Magical law enforcement and history."

"Why?"

"You know why."

Severus watched him carefully for a few moments.

"Why ask me?" he finally said. "Why not ask your new pal?"

"You're kidding me right now, right?" said Draco. "Are you actually being serious?"

Severus said nothing.

"I've known you my whole life, Sev!" Draco shouted. "I mean what kind of a question is that?!"

"Blood is always thicker, Draco," said Severus, quietly.

Draco stared at him. "You're really something, you know that?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You have some _nerve_ accusing me of things like this."

"Don't forget who you're talking to here, Draco, I'm still your teacher—"

"Yeah maybe, but you were my friend long before you ever were my teacher," said Draco, his voice shaking slightly. "And you don't scare me."

Severus stared at him, his mouth slightly open.

"Are you gonna sign the note for me?" said Draco.

More silence.

"You know what, forget it." Draco turned away from him and headed for the office door. "I suppose I'll go and ask my new _friend_."

"Yeah, you do that," said Severus. "I'm sure he'll be far more interested in your teenage problems than I ever will be."

Draco paused at the door and turned to look at Severus.

"Thanks for giving me permission to visit Hogsmeade," he said with as much sarcasm he could muster. He then left the office and was sure to slam the door loudly behind him.

"Dick," he muttered to himself once he was out in the corridor.

He wasn't really all that surprised. On one hand, he had expected this sort of reaction from Severus. It had to be rough, being coworkers with Sirius now, given their history and all. But on the other hand, he'd hoped for better. He'd hoped Severus would at least put it all behind him, for his sake, so that he, Draco, could at least have a chance at a normal family for once. He knew in his heart that if it came down to it, he'd probably protect Severus over Sirius...but only because he'd known him far longer and Severus was the first friend Draco had ever had. But the way he was acting lately wasn't driving Draco away from Sirius any more, because it was like Severus had said himself...blood really was thick. And at the end of the day, that law still applied to his own parents and his numerous relatives locked up in Azkaban.

"Draco," said Hermione's voice as he felt a tap on the shoulder.

Draco spun around quickly, panicked.

"Whoa, are you okay?" said Hermione. "Did I startle you?"

Draco looked around, finally realising that he was standing just outside the Great Hall. Hermione was watching him with a worried expression on her face.

Draco shook his head.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Hermione," he breathed. "I just had a thought..." she waited, eyes round. "What if I'm somehow r-related to Peter Pettigrew?"

* * *

Halloween was a strange day. Draco had never been big on the holiday and so he was glad to have a reason to skip the post-feast common room celebration with the other Slytherins. His second lesson with Sirius was gonna be that night at 9, and quite frankly, he couldn't wait. He'd given the whole memory thing some thought, and he had a few ideas in mind, but he was mostly just interested in learning the incantation already. And perhaps Sirius would later teach him how to be an animagus, or loads of other cool stuff.

During the feast, he didn't really talk to Avery or Blaise. He mostly just hung out with Theo or chatted with Regina. Pansy was also acting very mysterious, which was really starting to annoy Draco. But he held his tongue and didn't say a word to either of them. He wasn't gonna be the one to cause the row.

Draco ended up leaving the Great Hall just after the ghosts started their show. He took his time getting to Sirius' office, promising himself that tonight he would actually find out whether Pettigrew had any relation to his family, and what the deal with Severus was. When Draco found Sirius' office, he was surprised to find that he'd beaten him there.

"W-what are you doing here?" Draco asked. "I thought you'd still be at the feast. I was gonna wait for you here."

"I've been to that feast too many times already," said Sirius, dismissively. "Besides, it's no fun without any marauder pranks."

"What pranks?" said Draco.

Sirius paused. "Uh sorry, I thought I must've told you already." Draco shook his head. "Well back at school, me and my friends made nicknames for ourselves. But together, we were called the marauders."

"And you guys pulled a lotta pranks?"

"Well we had to pass the time somehow, didn't we?" said Sirius.

Draco shrugged. "I guess..."

Personally, he thought it was sort of lame to waste so much time planning ridiculous pranks. But he didn't say this out loud.

"Anyway, I don't suppose you've thought of any good enough memories yet?"

"Some," Draco admitted. "I don't know whether they'll be good enough or not, but I haven't completely forgotten about this."

"Well good, I'm glad to hear that!"

"So was Peter Pettigrew a part of this marauder crew thing of yours?" Draco blurted out.

Sirius frowned.

"Did you know him when you were at school?" Draco pressed.

Before Sirius could answer however, there was a knock at the door, and not a split second later, someone pushed it open.

Malfoy?" said Potter, letting the door shut behind him. "What are you doing here?"

"I might ask you the same thing," said Draco, staring at him from across the room with just as much distaste as he imagined Potter felt.

From what he could recall, their little mock truce from last year had shattered right after that first Care of Magical Creatures lesson. What a shame.

Sirius stood in between them now, with his hands in his pockets and a strange expression on his face.

"Ah Harry," he said. "Glad you could make it. Have a seat, boys."

He pointed them to a pair of desks at the front of the classroom. Hesitating slightly, they sat next to each other and Sirius leaned against his own desk, facing them.

"Sirius, what's going on?" Potter asked him.

Draco watched Sirius, feeling himself a little stunned. Sirius took a deep breath.

"I've been meeting with you both on weekend nights for lessons on how to repel the dementors."

"You have?" said Draco and Potter together. They looked sideways at each other, and then back at Sirius with accusatory expressions on their faces.

"I've decided that it'll be better if I teach you both together," Sirius went on, "Which is why the three of us will have lessons together on Fridays at 9 o'clock in the evening every week."

A burning sensation filled the top of Draco's chest at the sound of these words. It wasn't anger though...it was confusion. He couldn't understand why, WHY such a ridiculous suggestion as this wasn't even making him want to storm out? Why he wasn't so bothered even by this mere idea?

But Potter took care of the storming part all on his own.

"Okay, you're kidding me right now, right?" he said, jumping up from the desk.

Sirius only blinked at him, staying as calm as Draco.

" _You're joking, right?_ " Potter repeated, a little more panicked this time.

"Harry," said Sirius.

"No!" cried Potter, looking frantically at Draco. "No, I'm not doing lessons with this kid, okay? I mean it's bad enough that we have classes together during the day without adding any extras at night!"

"Harry," said Sirius, again, but his head slowly turned to Draco as Draco found himself getting to his feet.

"As much as I hate to say this, I'm with him," he told Sirius. "I don't really fancy us spending any more time together than we need to."

"He's right," said Potter, shocking Draco all the while. He crossed his arms now, much like a drama queen, and glared at Sirius.

Sirius however, watched the two of them carefully for a long time without a single word. Draco frowned at him, wondering what the hell was going on inside his mind and what he was thinking...what he was planning...

"So you guys are giving me an ultimatum then, huh?" he said, thoughtfully. "It's either I teach you separately or I don't teach you at all?"

"Yeah," they said together.

Draco bit back a groan. These little things that he and Potter tended to do the same were really starting to tick him off.

Sirius frowned again. "Well you see, boys, this whole teacher thing is pretty new to me. But from what I've gathered…I have way more power now than I did when I was a student here." He stepped away from his desk and walked around it to take a seat. Draco's heart sank as he suddenly realised where this was going. "And what that means, is that I can make you both report to my office at 9 o'clock every Friday night for a lesson." He paused and then smirked. "So that's what I'm gonna do!"

Draco sunk back into his chair without a word. He could just imagine Blaise's reaction tomorrow when he told him what his 'super wicked' weekly lessons with Sirius had now become. If he was soooo jealous of Draco, he'd get over it now.

"Sorry Harry, but I _am_ your teacher when we're both here at school," Sirius was saying now. "Look guys, I know you have this whole war thing going on here. Remus told me all about it. But since the three of us now have a…special connection, I'm gonna make you guys get along so that Christmases and birthdays won't be so awkward…"

Draco chewed on his lip. Exactly what did Sirius mean by this? Was he planning on having a huge birthday bash this year so that the Potters and the Malfoys could bond over cauldron cakes and crumpets?

"Sirius," said Potter. "I'm not gonna do the lessons."

"Oh yes you will."

Draco's eyes fell to the corner of the room and his heart must've skipped several beats in under ten seconds. What on earth would his mother say if she found out he was chilling with Sirius and Potter every week? Or _Severus_? What would _he_ say?

Potter then turned unexpectedly to Draco.

"Please tell me at least _you_ aren't on board with this," he told him.

Draco stared at him for a moment, feeling at a loss for words, and then looked back at Sirius.

"Sirius, I don't know," he admitted. "It's not really my...I mean I honestly don't..."

"You can't threaten _him_ with this," Potter cut in, desperately. Sirius frowned at him. " _His_ parents wouldn't want him to learn how to repel the dementors. They'd probably rather he _befriended_ them instead."

Draco stared at him and then looked back at Sirius worriedly. For the first time in his life, he really was, truly, at a loss for words. Nothing clever seemed to be hitting his brain. He felt like a dumb goose sitting there at the desk, letting ickle little pottie fight this battle for him.

"That's true," said Sirius, suddenly, snapping Draco back out of his daze. "I can't threaten you and I can't make you stay here, Draco." He paused. "But I'd like you to." Potter's jaw dropped, while Draco's eyes met Sirius'. "We haven't known each other for very long. I've lost so much time with you…and I'd like to make some of it back. And I thought these Friday night lessons would be a good way to start…if you're up to it, of course…"

Draco stared at Sirius, feeling something strange at the pit of his stomach. Throat too tight to speak, he nodded.

"So you won't threaten him?" Potter shot at Sirius. This must have been really killing him, that he was so willing to keep fighting. "You'll _guilt_ him?"

Sirius shrugged. "His parents don't care as much—yours do." He pulled out his wand and flashed both boys a grin. "Ready?"

Draco pulled his wand out too. Well this was gonna be a nice next couple of months...

When that night's lesson was over, Potter ran out of the room as quickly as his feet would take him. Sirius had also noticed, but chose to ignore this. Draco stuck around in the classroom, staring at the door through which Potter had disappeared only moments ago.

"You realise why, don't you?" Sirius said.

Draco's throat was still too tight to speak, so he only looked at Sirius.

"He has far too many happy memories to choose one powerful enough for this and you don't have enough," said Sirius. "You're both clearly struggling with this, but together, you're stronger."

Draco opened his mouth to say something but nothing was coming out.

"I realise I might've lost like a ton of cool points in the course of one evening," sighed Sirius. "But I know this is the right thing to do— _Oh will you say something already?_ "

"I...I don't know what you want me to say," Draco admitted.

"Forget what _I_ want you to say, say what _you_ want!" cried Sirius.

Draco hesitated.

"What?"

"It's just that my whole life I've only said what others wanted to hear," said Draco. "Every adult I've known has always made that clear to me...that this was the only way to speak to them."

"Well you don't have to do that anymore," said Sirius after a moment's silence. "My God, things really haven't changed since I was your age. Our family is still pulling the old tricks and manipulations on the kids."

Draco took a deep breath.

"Does that family extend to Peter Pettigrew by any chance?"

"What?!" cried Sirius. "And where the hell did you get _that_?!"

"Just wondering," Draco shrugged. "Does it?"

"No," said Sirius at once. "That man is not related to the Blacks _or_ the Malfoys in any way."

"What about the Potters?"

"Not the Potters, not the Weasleys, not the Dumbledores, not _anyone_."

Draco nodded and Sirius sighed.

"He was my best friend while I was here at school," he began. "And Harry's father and Remus...we were the four marauders. We made all the pranks together, we were notoriously popular, and _he_ was under our ranks."

"So what happened then?"

"The war happened, that's what," said Sirius. "Sometime into the war, he moved over to the dark side and began telling Voldemort and his pals all of the Order's secrets and plans. I always knew he was a rat, but I'd never wanted to believe it. I wanted to believe he'd be better than that. But I was clearly mistaken."

"And you guys never suspected him while you were at school?"

Sirius scoffed and then looked sadly into a corner. "He had us all completely fooled." He looked back at Draco. "That's part of the reason why I took the job here this year. I don't want to let that slimey, no-good piece of trash anywhere near the people that I love."

"But why would he come near here?" Draco wondered. "What's here for him? What's he after?"

"I reckon something that'll help him bring his precious master back to life," Sirius muttered.

Draco froze.

"N-no spell can reawaken the d-dead," he said.

"Right," said Sirius. "But it can reawaken the almost dead."

Draco made his way back to the common room with his mind more clouded than ever before. When he finally reached it, he found all of his friends lounging by the fireplace and playing cards.

"How was it?" Theo asked, sitting up.

Draco stood there. Which bit was he supposed to tell them first? That Draco and Harry would be having dementor-repelling lessons together every week? That Pettigrew wasn't related to him? That he was after making Voldemort come back to life, which was by the way totally possible? He wasn't even sure which of these was fact anymore.

"It was fine," Draco finally mumbled, moving to sit on one of the couches. "What have you guys been hiding from me lately?" he added momentarily.

Blaise and Avery exchanged a look.

"Nothing!" said Goyle.

"Rubbish," said Draco. "Out with it."

The boys said nothing.

"Now," Draco added, irritably.

"Nose down, Draco," said Blaise suddenly. "You'll give yourself a heart attack. Come on, let's play."

"Blaise," said Draco, his tone of voice serious.

But it was Theo who spoke next, and not the other two.

"What's going on with you and Pansy?" he asked Draco.

"W-what do you mean?"

"You guys are always together," Theo pointed out.

"Doing homework together," said Goyle.

"And research," said Crabbe.

"Sharing life stories and ambitions," said Blaise with a tone of mockery.

"It's just something we've noticed lately," said Theo. "So what's going on?"

"Nothing," said Draco truthfully. "It _is_ possible to talk to a human being of the opposite sex and not have it mean anything, you know."

"Oh it's possible alright," said Blaise. "But we reckon you're bluffing."

"It's okay if you're interested in her," said Avery, quietly.

"I'm not," said Draco, defensively. "Who are _you_ interested in?"

Avery closed his mouth quickly and looked back down at the cards. Draco continued to glare at him.

"Okay whatever," said Blaise. "Game time. Draco, you in?"

"No," said Draco. "I'm tired."

He got up and went to his dormitory without a word to any of them. Once there, he slumped on his bed and sighed, staring up at the ceiling.

If Voldemort could return...if he did return...Draco's parents would be a lot worse than they already were. _That_ was fact.

The next couple of days, his friends proceeded to tease him about Pansy and give him all these knowing looks whenever he was talking to her. Annoyed, he began ignoring them, which only fueled their interest even more.

After a Charms lesson one day, Hermione hauled Draco away to an empty classroom for a little chat. He leaned against a desk as she closed the door and waited.

"So did you talk to Sirius then?" she asked him. "How did the lesson go? Did he say anything about Pettigrew? Did you learn the Patronus Charm yet?"

"No," said Draco, quietly. "It's hard to learn, it'll take a few weeks."

"Well what did he say about Pettigrew?"

"I'm not related to him."

"Is that it then?"

Draco frowned as his eyes fell to the floor and he studied his shoes.

"Pettigrew has escaped to bring back Voldemort."

Hermione gasped.

"He said that?" she whispered.

"In a way, yeah," said Draco, looking up at her.

"Oh no," said Hermione, quietly. "But...I've been researching and I can't figure out how you'd go about bringing someone back to life!"

"Well," said Draco, sighing. "Apparently it's possible...look I dunno, I'm so over thinking about all this."

Hermione nodded.

"How have you been?"

"Me?" she said. "I'm good!"

Draco eyed her curiously. "You've been sick a fair bit lately."

"Oh don't worry about it, they're just stomach aches," she said, dismissively. "How are the...how are the hippogriff research sessions going?"

Draco stared at her. They never talked about this. They always made a point to avoid the subject altogether.

"They're fine," Draco mumbled. "My friends are annoying me now though."

"Why?"

"They're just being stupid and going on about how I'm into Pansy or the other way around, I dunno."

Something changed in Hermione's face.

"What?" said Draco.

"Um nothing," she said. "I just..." she grew incredibly pale-faced in the span of just ten seconds.

"Hermione, what is it?" said Draco, alarmed.

"I just r-remembered that I have ancient runes," she mumbled. "I've gotta go."

And she hurried out of the classroom at once. Draco stared after her, an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach. What the hell was going on with everybody lately? Was Sirius the last decent human being left on earth?

The door opened again and Avery poked his head in.

"Hey, you coming to Quidditch practice?"

Draco snapped out of his daze.

"Yeah," he said slowly, following him out of the classroom.

There was no use waiting for Hermione to return or to start telling the truth, because Draco knew perfectly well that she had Ancient Runes in the mornings, not the afternoons.

As the days of November slowly progressed and Draco became busy with homework and Quidditch practice, he had lots of time to think and he finally decided that nothing would happen to him as long as Sirius was around. He'd said so himself that he'd only taken the job as Defense teacher this year to protect the people that he loved...that included Draco then. The fact that it included Potter as well didn't even bother Draco one bit. He finally had someone in his life who was openly telling him that he loved him. Oh Severus loved him alright, but he'd never stoop to that low of an emotional level to actually say it out loud.

Severus was acting very strange now that word spread around that Draco and Potter were doing extra lessons with Sirius on Friday nights. It was like every Potions lesson was beyond awkward and Severus was doing a very good job at ignoring Draco altogether. Annoyed, Draco ignored him right back. If he was going to be this way from now on, fine then.

But Draco's emotional tolerance came to a test on Thursday night when his friends had finally stretched through it.

"I'M NOT INTO PARKINSON, ALRIGHT?!" Draco bellowed at them in the common room.

They all froze. Startled, Draco turned around to find Pansy standing just behind him, wide-eyed and pale-faced.

"Oops," Blaise muttered behind him.

"Pansy, I-"

But Pansy had run off to her dormitory. Draco stared after her for a few moments and then turned back to his friends.

"You guys are little shits," he declared, before storming out of the common room.

He walked down the dungeon corridor feeling more furious than he'd had in a long time. He was just about to turn the corner when he bumped into something. He looked up.

"Sorry," said Hermione, also startled.

"What are you doing down here?"

"I just wanted to come say hi," she said. "Are...are you okay?"

"Perfect," Draco spat, looking away from her.

"Whoa, _what_ is wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," he grumbled.

"Draco, come on!"

She reached for his arm but he pulled away from her.

"What's the matter with you?" she cried, her voice high-pitched now.

"Nothing, Hermione!" he shouted. "Why does everyone have to know my business? Can't you just butt out for once?"

"Fine," said Hermione, her voice shaking now. "I can see when I'm not wanted around. I'll just go then."

"Not you too," Draco moaned. "Can you just leave me alone? Can you do that?"

Hermione stared at him, tears sparkling in her eyes. And then, she ran off. Draco turned away from her and continued to walk. It was like everyone nowadays was acting like a child...Hermione with her stupid emotions and nagging about the hippogriff stuff, Pansy with her annoying questions, his friends with their unappreciated jokes, Severus with his ridiculous jealousy...even his parents with their idiocy and their ignorance.

Feeling incredibly overwhelmed, Draco walked on until he started to feel hot tears trickling down his face. He had no idea why he was crying; he reckoned the night was playing tricks on him. But for the time being, all he wanted was to just leave. Be someplace other than here.

He turned another corner and stopped before a door he'd never stopped before. He stared at it for a moment, and then knocked three times. The door opened at its own accord and Draco entered.

"Mr. Malfoy, what a surprise," said Professor McGonagall.

* * *

 **AN: While we wait for my tragic computer situation to get solved, have a look at my other story..."Hogwarts: Marauding the Timeline". Unfortunately there's a temporary pause on that now too, but so far it's a good 13 chapters in. When I have a working computer again, I'll resume both stories right away.**


	25. Year 3: The Match

**A/N:** **Don't worry, I actually went to the library to get this chapter out. I didn't kill myself with a tiny smartphone keyboard, so no guilt necessary from you guys.**

 **I realise that I'm starting to hint at Draco/Pansy and Draco/Regina and Harry/Lavender and Harry/Ginny and maybe even Harry/Hermione, but like I said, Hermione doesn't end up with Harry OR Ron, so that one doesn't count. Anyway, I'm just teasing you guys coz I like teasing. Have fun guessing..**

 **Disclaimer : Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks**

* * *

CHAPTER 25: YEAR 3—THE MATCH

* * *

 _Harry_

* * *

 _"...Ron," said Harry, turning to look at him. "Get up."_

 _"Where are we going?" said Ron, following him back up the stairs._

 _"Headmaster's Tower," said Harry, pocketing the map now. "We are going to go see Dumbledore..."_

* * *

"And why were you in that corridor at that time of night?" said Dumbledore, his eyebrows furrowed as he eyed the strange-looking silver instrument on the table.

Harry and Ron glanced nervously at each other, before Harry cleared his throat.

"We were just exploring, sir," he admitted. "We weren't doing anything wrong."

"We know there's a curfew and everything," began Ron.

"But we were gonna come back to the common room anyways," said Harry.

"He means when we found him," said Ron.

"When we found Pettigrew," finished Harry.

Dumbledore smiled. His office was extremely dim, with very little working candles amidst the piles of books. Fawkes, his red pet bird, was resting in its cage a little ways from his desk. Dumbledore continued to eye the spinning silver instruments, clicking and clanking into the silence of the packed, circular office. Then, he turned to look at the boys, his expression calm and sincere.

"You did the right thing in coming here to tell me," he said. "And since you both saw Peter Pettigrew leave the castle, I believe it is safe to say he won't be returning tonight."

Harry and Ron nodded.

"I shall inform the teachers tomorrow of the break-in, and increase security in the castle straightaway."

Again, the boys nodded.

Dumbledore's eyes fell on Harry and a curious expression crossed his face.

"Mr. Weasley," he said, his eyes still on Harry, "You should probably return to your dormitory now. I need to have a little word with Harry here."

"Uh yeah okay," said Ron, looking relieved.

He left the office, casting Dumbledore a curious look over his shoulder. Harry glanced at Dumbledore nervously, but he only smiled and motioned for him to sit down. When they were both sitting and facing each other across the desk, Dumbledore placed both hands on top of it and frowned at Harry.

"Why do you look so miserable, Harry?"

"S-sorry?" said Harry.

"I can sense that there is a lot on your mind," said Dumbledore, calmly, "A lot that you have been keeping to yourself for some time now."

Harry stared at the headmaster, all grey and wrinkly but still smiling.

"What's on your mind?" said Dumbledore.

Harry opened his mouth, but nothing came out. What was he supposed to say? No one told him anything nowadays, so why should Dumbledore be any different?

"I just...I was just...I..."

"It's okay," said Dumbledore. "I know you want answers—I am here to listen. You can ask me anything."

Harry gaped at him. "You mean that?"

"Yes."

Harry took a deep breath.

"I want to know what happened on Halloween night 12 years ago," he said.

Dumbledore nodded once. "Are you sure you want to know everything? Once you know it, you can't un-know it, Harry. Are you sure you're ready to know?"

"Yes," said Harry without hesitation.

Dumbledore nodded again, and then turned his head to look at Fawkes.

"You no doubt know of the secret organisation that I founded back in the war?" Harry nodded. "I recruited as many of Hogwarts' most promising students as I could, including their families."

"That included Pettigrew then," said Harry.

"He was the best of friends with your father, Sirius, and Remus. They were never seen without each other, for all seven years as students here." Harry nodded. "When they left Hogwarts, they joined my ranks and helped me fight the Death Eaters and Voldemort's ever-growing army. But at some point during the war, Peter went over to the dark side and began to act as a spy for Voldemort."

"And he was never suspected?"

"I suspect he was rather terrified for his life, so he made his covers extra convincing..."

"...by basically siding with the person who had the most power," concluded Harry.

Dumbledore tilted his head slightly to look at him, and then continued.

"When Voldemort discovered the famous Prophecy that marked you as his next victim, I advised your parents to go into hiding in the village where I grew up myself. The war was at its height at the time, and so it wasn't at all uncommon for various wizarding families to have secret keepers. Your parents wanted Sirius."

"They did have Sirius," said Harry. "He was the secret keeper—they told me this."

"But what they didn't tell you is that Sirius gave up secret keeper just days before Halloween."

"WHAT?!"

" _Let me explain_ ," said Dumbledore, raising a hand to stop Harry. "Sirius told your parents that it would be safer for them to select a keeper like Peter—someone who the Dark Lord would likely overlook. And he was right, Harry. It was the perfect plan."

"Yeah, except Pettigrew wasn't on the good side anymore," said Harry.

Dumbledore smiled. "No one could have known." Harry shrugged vaguely. "Pettigrew was now Secret Keeper for your parents, and as a result, he told the Dark Lord where they were hiding."

"And the Dark Lord came to Godric's Hollow to kill us," said Harry, quietly.

"It truly is a miracle that you survived that night," said Dumbledore. "That must have been some incredibly powerful accidental magic, Harry."

"Yeah, but my parents didn't use accidental magic," said Harry. "Why didn't they die? Wasn't Voldemort, like, known for always killing his victims? Wasn't it impossible for anyone to escape him?"

"All true," said Dumbledore, "But your parents and I had known for quite some time that he'd be coming after them eventually. We took precautions."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that we were prepared for the very worst that night," said Dumbledore. "He thought he was surprising them in Godric's Hollow on Halloween, but they were very well aware that he'd be coming for them."

"How—?"

"After Voldemort's demise, Peter realised that he was no longer safe, so he ran."

"But he was caught eventually," said Harry.

"By Sirius," nodded Dumbledore.

" _Sirius_?" cried Harry.

"He found Peter out and he put the pieces together," said Dumbledore. "At first, Peter tried to turn it all on his friend and make it seem like _he'd_ been the one who'd betrayed your parents. The ministry was quite paranoid at the time and so it didn't take much persuasion for them to persecute another member of the Black family. It also didn't help Sirius that no one but he, your parents, and Peter knew that he and Peter had switched roles as Secret Keepers."

"But—"

"Your parents were supposed to die that night," said Dumbledore. "But because they didn't, they were able to speak on Sirius' behalf and have him released from Azkaban fairly quickly."

"And Pettigrew was locked up instead," Harry concluded. He'd never known that Sirius had spent a few nights in Azkaban.

"Correct," said Dumbledore. "There was a hearing, but your parents asked me to attend instead. I imagine they weren't keen on attending a hearing for their best friend's betrayal."

"Did...did Sirius attend?"

"No, and neither did Remus."

Harry nodded.

"So Pettigrew's been in Azkaban all this time," he said. "A-and he escaped just this summer."

"If you're asking me how he escaped, I honestly cannot tell you," said Dumbledore. "I suspect he got some help from the outside, but I can't know for sure. People are heavily...corrupted...nowadays."

"Sir, why do you think he's escaped?" Harry blurted out. Dumbledore frowned at him. "Do you think the Daily Prophet articles are true? Do you think he really is after me?" Dumbledore said nothing. "I mean, why would he have been in the castle tonight if he wasn't?"

There was silence. Nothing but silence. It was clear that Dumbledore was trying to think up something to say so that he wouldn't have to tell Harry the truth. But Harry already knew the truth.

"If he wasn't after me, you wouldn't have easily believed me and Ron tonight when we told you that he was in the castle," he concluded. "You knew he'd be coming by sometime, and what for."

"It is my theory," said Dumbledore, quietly. "But you are not alone, Harry. You have family and you have friends. You are safe here."

"I don't care if I'm safe or not, professor," said Harry, instantly. "I want to find him. I want him to feel guilty for everything that he's done. Do you realise that if he'd succeeded that night, I'd probably be dead right now? So would mum and dad."

"But you are not," said Dumbledore. "And wondering what would or could have happened won't change anything now. The important thing is that the results of that night were not tragic."

"Yeah, but I don't want him to forget it," Harry muttered. He then looked up at Dumbledore again. "Why do you think he's after me? Do you think he's going to try to kill me? Or does he have...other plans...?"

"Harry..."

"I remember you told me once that you reckon Voldemort could come back one day," Harry went on. "Is that what you think Pettigrew's after? You think he's gonna try to get me so that he can bring Voldemort back somehow? So that Voldemort could finally kill me? And like, I dunno, prove to the wizarding world that he's still the most powerful and that no one can escape him?"

"I think...that it is time for you to go to bed now, Harry."

Harry knew not to argue. After all, he'd gotten more answers tonight that he'd ever hoped for. This was good.

He let Dumbledore escort him out of the office and down the dark corridor. They walked all the way to Gryffindor Tower in silence, and Dumbledore only bid Harry goodnight once he was safely inside the common room. Going up to his dormitory, Harry knew that Dumbledore had escorted him for fear of Pettigrew returning to the castle. He wasn't fooling anybody. It was clear that he, along with the rest of the teachers, was very worried. But Harry wasn't worried one bit. He knew Pettigrew would return—heck, he _hoped_ for him to return. And when he did, they would have it out. Harry would never let him forget that it was because of him that he'd almost lost his family that night, and possibly, his own life.

"Whoa," said Ron the following morning when Harry told him and Neville together at breakfast. "So Peter Pettigrew's escaped from Azkaban to come after you?"

"Yeah," said Harry.

"I can't believe you two saw him last night!" said Neville.

"Shh!" hissed Harry and Ron together.

Ginny turned around in her seat.

"Saw who?" she wondered.

"Hagrid," Harry lied. "We went out last night to see him."

"How's he doing?" said Ginny.

"Not good," said Hermione.

"How do _you_ know?" said Ron.

"I've been visiting him," said Hermione, sheepishly.

"Since when are you and Hagrid best pals?" said Ron.

"Since it's not a crime to visit one of your teachers and see how they're doing," said Hermione before turning abruptly away from him.

"That was a little insensitive," Neville told Ron.

"Oh whatever," said Ron, shrugging. "It's not my fault she takes everything way too seriously."

"Ron, you're such a pinhead," said Ginny.

Harry laughed, but regretted it almost immediately because Ginny reddened instantly. Harry quickly looked away from her and grabbed Neville's copy of the Daily Prophet to scan that morning's headlines.

The rest of that week was as close to normal as it could possibly get, under the circumstances. Dumbledore had kept true to his word about heightening security around the castle so that Pettigrew could not get in, animagus or not. But even so, Harry managed to put the whole incident off of his mind and focus on more important things—the upcoming match against Slytherin. Harry's father wrote to tell him on Wednesday morning that he, Lily and Remus would be flooing to the school for the match. Homework wasn't that big of a burden, so Harry and Ron were able to put all their focus on practice. And even Sirius decided to postpone that week's dementor-repelling lesson, knowing that both Harry and Draco had a match to prepare for.

Harry prepared for this match like he'd never prepared for a match before. He was prepared to give it his very all. His parents, as well as Remus and Sirius were all gonna be there. _And_ this match was against Slytherin. So no, it wasn't just _any_ match. It was _the_ match. And he knew that if he didn't do well, Slytherin would never let him forget it. It had to go well.

But on the morning of the match, Harry awoke at 5 to someone prodding him furiously.

"Whaaaaat?" he whined, rubbing his eyes as he slowly sat up.

"Listen!" someone hissed.

Eyes still half-closed, Harry listened. He listened until he heard the loud rumbling of thunder. And then, his eyes popped open and he found Ron sitting on his bed, looking distraught. Harry glanced at the dormitory windows. Sure enough, rain was pounding hard outside, occasionally accompanied by the flash of lightning. It was still dark out, and the wind was howling like mad.

"Crap," Harry whispered.

"We're gonna get slaughtered today," said Ron, nodding at the window.

"No we're not," said a voice.

Harry and Ron both turned around. Oliver Wood was standing at the door of the dormitory, dressed from head to toe in Quidditch robes.

"Wood?" said Harry, softly. Neville, Dean and Seamus were still asleep.

"Get dressed, both of you," said Wood. "Emergency meeting downstairs in three minutes."

Harry and Ron both dressed quickly, careful not to make any noise and wake the others. When they came downstairs five minutes later, they found Wood standing on top of a coffee table, and the whole of their team was nearly snoozing on the couches.

"You're late," Wood told Harry and Ron as they made their way down the spiral staircase to join the others. "Now, I've called this emergency meeting because as you can see, today's flying conditions are not the best. In fact, they're terrible. But we are _not_ gonna let this affect our winning today's match."

"Of course we won't," said George, sleepily.

"Absolutely not," Wood agreed. "Which is why, from now until breakfast, we are going to sit here and go over our game plan until we get it right. We are gonna sit here until everyone knows exactly where they are supposed to be at all times. We are gonna sit here until we feel 100% completely confident that today's match will be a win for Gryffindor."

"Aw Wood, breakfast only gets served at 7:30!" said Fred.

"Yeah, you don't seriously expect us to sit here for two and a half hours...?" said Harry.

Wood raised an eyebrow at him. "That's exactly what I expect of you, Potter, because this is my last year and it is going to be a _win_ for Gryffindor. It had better be."

Ron groaned.

"I wanna go back to bed," Alicia whispered to Ginny, who smiled vaguely in response, and then cast the windows a nervous look.

Outside, thunder rumbled again. Wood's head snapped up.

"Let's get cracking then!" he exclaimed.

By breakfast time, Harry doubted he could ever stand hearing the word 'Quidditch' ever again. He felt so sick to his stomach that any food Neville shoved in front of him, he just shoved right back. Ron also looked quite bitter, but even he looked genuinely concerned. He kept asking Harry if he was feeling alright, and when Harry only got paler and paler, Ron's checkups became more frequent.

As soon as breakfast was over, Harry, Ron and Ginny followed the rest of their team out into the field, all of them already changed and ready to go. Everyone else in the school ran across the puddles to the stadium in their raincoats and hoods. The storm was so heavy that Harry could barely see a thing, let alone his parents up in the stands. But he knew they were there anyway. He just hoped this terrible weather wouldn't affect his ability to see the snitch. No snitch, no win. And no win, no living. Wood had made that perfectly clear, two hours previously.

Madame Hooch stepped out onto the field in a black raincoat, and the players each mounted their brooms and soared off into the air. Wood circled around Harry and yelled, "THE ONLY COLOUR YOU SEE FROM NOW ON IS GOLD, POTTER!"

"GOT IT!" Harry shouted back, moving away from the goal hoops so that Wood wouldn't bother him anymore.

All he could see down below was several green and red blobs. Harry repositioned his goggles and kept both hands on his broom, waiting. He'd chosen to use the newest broom he owned, though now he was staring to wish that he really _had_ bought that new Firebolt, because it didn't seem like any of his brooms would survive this type of weather.

Madame Hooch's whistle then gave a loud hoot, and those big red and green blobs began blurring left and right. Harry instantly dashed forwards, wasting no time in finding that snitch. He dodged a couple of bludgers and confused one of the Slytherin players (he wasn't sure who) by circling them a couple of times. And every time the Gryffindors scored or saved a hoop, Harry flew by Ron to high-five him, as did Fred and George. Harry wasn't sure what the score was so far, but he reckoned it was somewhere near a tie, considering both the Gryffindors and the Slytherins had scored several times each. Still, the rain was pouring so hard now that it was impossible to see or hear anything. Harry only kept his eyes out for a little bit of gold, and nothing else.

Suddenly, a blob of green zoomed right by him, accompanied by a little bit of blond hair. Harry followed his instincts and instantly flew after it. Higher and higher into the air, he went, not at all caring about how hard the rain was now pounding against his face. His fingers were all practically frozen, but all the while, he continued to chase after Malfoy. He wasn't gonna let him get the snitch—not this match.

Something black and heavy flew just in front of Harry, obscuring his vision for a second there, and then he flew on after Malfoy, who was growing fainter and fainter. Harry flew faster—the fastest that his broom would allow him to—until he grew closer to Malfoy again. Only when he was inches away did he realise that he was no longer chasing Malfoy on a broom, but a frigging dementor instead.

"POTTER!" someone shouted.

Harry twirled around quickly and found Malfoy just behind him.

"FORGET THE SNITCH!" he shouted.

Harry did not even hesitate, but made to follow him back down when another dementor suddenly zoomed up to them. They both quickly zoomed the other way, flying as fast as their brooms would go.

"WHAT SHOULD WE DO?!" Malfoy shouted into the rain.

"DO WHAT SIRIUS IS TRAINING US TO DO!" Harry shouted back.

Together, they pulled out their wands and Harry closed his eyes while he continued to fly blindly. His mind raced until he landed on one particular memory that literally just popped into his head at that moment. It was him, his parents, Remus, Sirius and Neville all together at summertime. It was the day Harry's parents had told him how they'd gotten together. To this day, Harry had always thought that to be the happiest story he'd ever heard. He thought it was a completely magical and extraordinary story, given that his mother _hated_ his father right up to seventh year. But the day they'd gotten together...when he'd gifted her a lily flower and they'd danced together in the school courtyard...it was always a story that made Harry feel at home—like everything was right in the world.

Channelling all of that into his heart now, he opened his eyes and yelled "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" at the same time that Malfoy yelled it too.

Harry wasn't sure if it had worked, but something was definitely happening. Amidst all the rain and chaos of the dementors flying everywhere, there were several silver strings that erupted from the ends of both Harry's and Malfoy's wands. They collided together and started pushing something incredibly heavy away. But then it began pushing right back, and Harry, shocked from what was happening, lost concentration and felt his own light fade away.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" he shouted again.

The light erupted and again, faded. "EXPECTO PATRONUM! EXPECTO PATRONUM! EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

Again and again the light came and went, and on the other side, the same thing seemed to be happening for Malfoy, who was now looking extremely pale. One of the dementors shoved itself in his face and he let out a hoarse yell. Harry's own vision blurred as a dementor moved just in front of him.

He heard his mother's piercing scream again, and then he suddenly felt extremely light. The rain was no longer pounding hard against him, he could no longer hear his mother's and Malfoy's yells, and his skin was no longer cold.

* * *

"He looks really peckish," said Ron's muffled voice.

"Well he fell over a hundred feet!" cried Fred or George.

"Yeah, let's pull you off the Astronomy Tower and see what _you_ look like, Ron!" said Fred or George.

"Lucky the ground was so soft," said Ginny.

"I thought he was dead for sure," said Fred or George.

"But he didn't even break his glasses," said Ron.

Harry could hear the voices whispering, but they made no sense whatsoever. He didn't have a clue where he was, or how he'd got there, or what he'd been doing before he got there. All he knew was that every inch of him was aching as though it had been beaten.

Suddenly, someone's warm hand felt his forehead, and a voice whispered, "Harry dear?"

Harry's eyes popped open. His mother was sitting on the edge of his bed. She smiled at him, and then pulled his glasses over his eyes. He looked around.

He was lying in the hospital wing. His parents, Remus, and the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team were gathered around his bed, all of them looking as though they'd just climbed out of a swimming pool. The team were all spattered with mud from head to toe.

"How are you feeling, honey?" said Lily as Harry slowly and cautiously sat up in his bed. Lily propped up the pillow to help him.

"Fine," Harry mumbled, looking around.

A large group of people dressed in green were huddled around one of the beds on the opposite end of the hospital wing, along with—

"Sirius," Harry called.

Sirius turned to look at him and rushed to his side.

"You okay there, Harry?" he said, looking concerned.

"I'm okay," said Harry. "But what happened?"

"You mean you don't remember?" said James.

"Not really," said Harry.

"You fell off your broom, mate," said Fred, who looked completely pale underneath all the mud.

"No kidding," said Harry. "I meant the match—who won?"

The adults exchanged a look while the team all got very quiet.

"Well?" said Harry.

"There's gonna be a rematch," said Ginny, quietly.

"A rematch...?" said Harry, faintly. "You mean...you mean all those points counted for _nothing?!"_

He looked round at his father, who only nodded slowly.

"Where is Wood?" Harry asked George, suddenly realising he wasn't there.

"Still in the showers," said George. "We think he's trying to drown himself."

Fred nodded.

"When's the rematch gonna—?"

"This is your fault!" his mother rounded on his father suddenly.

"What did I do?" he said, innocently.

"You got him all riled up about Quidditch that he cares about nothing else!" she exclaimed. "He doesn't even _care_ that he fell off his broom from the bloody sky and that he almost got attacked by those foul dementors. He only cares about the score!"

"Hey, it's not _my_ fault the boy was born to be a professional Quidditch player," said James.

"You mean born to have a respectable ministry job," Lily corrected him.

James smirked.

"I think what they mean," said Remus, moving to sit on Harry's other side, "Is that you should know you almost got attacked by the dementors."

"But why didn't I?" said Harry, faintly.

"You really don't know?" said Sirius.

Harry thought. And then, it all came back to him...his entire conversation with Malfoy up in the air...the way that they'd both put their minds together and cast the Patronus Charm (or half of it at least) at the same time. Harry looked at the other end of the hospital wing again, where he could now see a hint of Malfoy on the bed. Hermione was sitting just next to him, surrounded completely by the Slytherin Quidditch team.

"Is...is he okay?" Harry mumbled.

"He's fine," said Sirius.

"But are _you_?" said Neville, speaking for the first time since Harry had regained consciousness.

Harry nodded. It wasn't a lie. He actually felt totally and perfectly fine—loads better than he'd felt before and during the match actually.

"So," said Sirius, clapping his hands once. "Quite a match, eh?"

"Definitely one for the books," said Fred.

"None of this is very funny though," said Lily. "I mean, this could have ended _tragically_ —"

"Yes, but it didn't," said James, suddenly.

"Where is Dumbledore?" Lily said at once.

"He's on his way," James told her.

"Good," said Lily. "I want a word with him."

"He didn't do anything wrong," said Harry at once. Lily stared at him. "It's not like he sent those dementors to guard the match or anything."

"Harry, I—"

"Don't say anything to him, mum," said Harry. "Seriously, don't punish him. Dumbledore is not the one at fault here."

Lily frowned. "And who is?"

Harry paused.

"Nothing," he finally muttered. Lily continued to stare at him.

"So," said Remus, slowly. "Anyone care for a story?"

"Yes," said James, Sirius, Fred and George together.

Harry put his head back on the pillow and sighed deeply.

"What'd you have in mind?" Neville wondered.

"A little tale about a girl Sirius sent over to my house a couple weeks back," said Remus, simply.

Sirius' eyes went round as Lily said, "What girl?"

"Just a girl," said Remus, giving Sirius a knowing look.

Harry glanced at his father, who smirked down at him.

"Who was the girl, Professor Lupin?" said Ginny, who looked to be in a very bright mood now. Ginny, Harry noticed, was eyeing Lupin with the utmost respect.

"She's an auror in training," said Remus, simply.

"So what happened then?" said Harry.

To Harry's great astonishment, Remus said, "We...hit it off, actually."

Sirius' eyebrows raised, while James' smirk only widened. Lily glanced curiously at Harry.

"Do you know who he's talking about?" she asked him, quietly.

"Nope," said Harry straightaway.

After ten minutes of more small talk, Sirius went back to Draco's bed and Hermione came over to Harry's.

"How're you feeling?" she asked him.

"Fine," he said.

His mother, however, suddenly cheered up. A lot.

"Hi!" she said brightly to Hermione.

"Hello," said Hermione.

"You must be Hermione Granger," said Lily. "I'm Harry's mother, Lily. This is his father, James."

"Pleasure to meet you," said Hermione.

"It really is," said Lily, smiling at her.

Harry groaned.

"Are you in pain?" said Neville at once.

"Yes," Harry grumbled.

Remus let out a laugh.

"Oh, Professor Lupin!" said Hermione, finally noticing his presence there. "How...how are you?"

"I'm really well, thanks for asking, Hermione," he told her.

Hermione smiled.

At that moment, however, the door to the hospital wing burst open. In came a tall and slender blonde woman, wearing a black travelling cloak. There was not an inch of her body covered in rain. She must've floo'd there, Harry thought. She looked around the hospital wing, casting the Potters a dirty look, until her eyes landed on Malfoy's bed and she marched up to him. Harry's eyes followed her, not noticing that Dumbledore had come into the room as well, followed by Professors McGonagall and Snape. Madame Pomfrey was also present now.

"Draco!" hissed the blonde woman. "What on earth has happened?!"

Sirius, who had moved to the back of the Slytherin crowd, closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his eyes landed on Harry with a pained expression. And then, he forced himself to the front of the crowd until he was facing the blonde woman. Snape, Harry noticed, followed suit. Hermione however, slowly sat down next to Ginny and tried to make herself look as invisible as currently possible.

"Narcissa," said Sirius' voice.

The entire hospital wing had grown silent and everyone was now watching. The tall woman called Narcissa took a minute before she turned around to face Sirius. Her expression was full of deep loathing.

"Why, you have some nerve," she told him in a hiss-like tone. "How dare you turn up here?"

"Now is that any way to talk to one of your son's professors?" said Sirius, his hands behind his back.

"You little _twit_ ," said Narcissa. "And by the way, you have _no right_ giving my child private lessons on weekends—as I recall, that's not a part of your job description. Just stick to what it is you're supposed to do in this your pathetic job."

"At least I _have_ a job," Sirius shot back.

Narcissa's whole face changed.

"At least, if I had a family, I'd be willing to support it," Sirius continued. "And if I hadn't started giving your child these lessons, he'd likely be dead right now."

The words sent a chill down Harry's spine as he continued to watch. Narcissa looked from Sirius to her son and then back.

"You're to leave him alone," she declared. "You're not going to fill his brain with your nonsense."

"Mother, stop," said Malfoy behind her.

" _You_ will stay out of this," she hissed at him.

"No!" said Malfoy. "I want to take these lessons with Sirius. I'm going to."

"I forbid you to," said Narcissa. Snape placed his hand on her shoulder, but said nothing. He only remained at her side, occasionally giving Sirius looks full of hatred.

They started to say something else, but Harry couldn't hear because Dumbledore had now joined his parents' side.

"What on earth were those foul things doing up in the Quidditch pitch?" Lily hissed at him.

"They were out of bounds," Dumbledore informed her.

"Clearly!" she cried. "How could you let this happen, Dumbledore?"

"Easy, Lils, it wasn't his fault," said James. He looked at Dumbledore. "How did this happen though?"

"I've already spoken with the minister but he is insisting on keeping them here until such time that Peter Pettigrew is put behind bars again."

"But you got my letter, haven't you?" said Lily, lowering her voice to hushed whispers.

Harry looked round at Ron, Neville, Hermione and Ginny.

"What are they talking about?" he asked them.

"Dumbledore was _furious_ when the dementors came into the grounds," Hermione told him. "I'd never seen him so angry."

"He cast them away with that Patronus Charm thing," said Neville.

"And then he levitated you and Malfoy on stretchers to the hospital wing," said Ron.

"So both of us passed out then?" said Harry. "Not just me?"

"You both fell off your brooms," said Ginny. "Fred caught yours but Malfoy's flew into the Whomping Willow."

"Blimey," said Ron.

"Thanks," said Harry as Fred now handed him his broom, which looked perfectly fine.

Still, a surge of guilt was now settling itself in the pit of Harry's stomach. He knew that the Malfoys didn't have a lot of money, and the fact that _Malfoy's_ one and only broom was the one to get wrecked, while Harry had loads of brooms and his didn't get a single scratch, really bothered him.

"MOTHER, NO!" came Malfoy's shout suddenly.

The adults in front of Harry parted ways just in time for him to see Narcissa smack her son right across the face. Professor McGonagall let out a light gasp.

" _I_ will do the commanding around here," Narcissa hissed in her son's face.

Then, without another word, she stormed back out of the hospital wing. Snape ran after her, looking more furious and scary than Harry had ever seen him before.

Hermione rushed to Malfoy's side at once, while Sirius sat on his other side. Harry felt his own heartbeat accelerating as he watched them both try to comfort Malfoy, who looked shock-stricken.

"I am glad you are well, Harry," said Dumbledore, catching his attention again.

Harry nodded. Madame Pomfrey then rushed over to his side and handed him a large cube of chocolate.

"EAT," she said, at once.

He didn't need telling twice, and took it from her straightaway. She then hurried over to Malfoy's side to hand him an identical cube. Dumbledore moved to the center of the room now and addressed both Harry and Malfoy, while everyone else watched.

"I sincerely apologise to you both for tonight's incident," he began. "I will take it upon myself to make sure that it doesn't repeat itself anytime soon." He paused. "I am also sure that Professor Black is beyond proud of you both for trying to defend yourselves like that. Wizards far older and cleverer than you both have tried and failed to produce the Patronus Charm, yet you two were able to produce the non-corporeal version of it tonight. Well done."

Harry frowned. Funnily enough, he had absolutely no recollection of his wand emitting _any_ kind of silvery light. All he remembered was the rain, the thunder, those terrible dark creatures, and Malfoy shouting. Then, he'd blacked out and ended up here.

The door to the hospital wing then opened again. Lavender Brown came in, looking frightened and a little startled at everyone watching her.

"H-hello," she said, awkwardly.

"Hey," said Harry, slowly.

For a split second, his eyes fell on Ginny and, predictably so, he found her glaring at Lavender. But Harry was more interested in why she'd come there at all. He really hadn't expected her to.

"I think," said Dumbledore, casting both sides of the room a warm smile, "We should let our two boys have their rest."

Everyone began to file out of the hospital wing. Fred and George congratulated Harry again on being alive, his parents promised to write very soon, Remus told him to have some more chocolate, Sirius winked before leaving, and Ron, Neville and Ginny all waved goodbye to him. Lavender nodded at everyone as they left, and then bypassed the Slytherins (who were also leaving) and came to sit at the edge of Harry's bed. Harry looked round at Malfoy's bed, and found that his back was turned to Harry.

"I'll keep my voice down," Lavender said, following his gaze to Malfoy.

"No, that's okay," he said, quickly. "So what are you doing here?"

"Just wanted to check on you," said Lavender, shrugging slightly. "I was really worried back there."

"I'm fine," Harry assured her. "Really."

"It just looked so scary," she said, quietly. "Those creatures are just...foul. And then when I saw you falling out of the sky...well..."

"It really wasn't that bad," said Harry. "I don't remember any of it, so it honestly just felt like sleeping."

Lavender nodded. She glanced at Malfoy's bed again, and then looked at Harry.

"I'm really glad you're okay, Harry," she said, looking extremely sincere. Harry opened his mouth to say something but stopped himself instantly. Lavender had now taken his hand in hers and was squeezing it gently. Harry looked down at it curiously and then back at her. He gave her a mixture of a smile and a frown, and silently thanked Merlin a thousand times that his mother had left with everyone else.

* * *

 _Draco_

* * *

 _...Feeling incredibly overwhelmed, Draco walked on until he started to feel hot tears trickling down his face. He had no idea why he was crying; he reckoned the night was playing tricks on him. But for the time being, all he wanted was to just leave. Be someplace other than here._

 _He turned another corner and stopped before a door he'd never stopped before. He stared at it for a moment, and then knocked three times. The door opened at its own accord and Draco entered._

 _"Mr. Malfoy, what a surprise," said Professor McGonagall..._

* * *

Draco continued to stare at the old grandfather clock ticking on the wall behind where Professor McGonagall was sitting. She watched him curiously, her arms crossed. For about three whole minutes, they just sat there in silence. But McGonagall's patience seemed to run out when she realised Draco wasn't going to say anything. She sat up.

"I don't suppose you'd like to tell me what you are doing out of your dormitory at this hour, Mr. Malfoy?" she said.

Draco hesitated. The thought hadn't even occurred to him. He'd been so caught up in everything going on with everyone's drama that he hadn't even realised it was close to eleven, and there was a ten o'clock curfew for all students.

"I was just..." he said, glancing at the clock again. Perhaps it'd been a mistake coming there.

"You look like you have a lot on your mind," said Professor McGonagall. "I can't imagine how difficult it must be, having both Professors Snape and Black at your side."

"What?"

"I still remember them as students," said McGonagall. "After all, it wasn't that long ago."

"Wait, you taught them both?" said Draco.

McGonagall nodded. "They absolutely hated each other."

"Yeah, I got that," said Draco. "And my parents hate Sirius too."

"Well that's understandable, given the Black family's history," said McGonagall.

Draco frowned at her. He wasn't aware that she knew so much.

"Draco," said McGonagall, sighing deeply. "You don't have to live the hatred that your parents perpetrated long ago. You don't have to hate Harry Potter and his friends just because Severus hated their parents. Liking them and being friends with them does not make you any less friends with Severus."

Draco smiled weakly. "Clearly you don't know him that well then."

"He is being a _child_ ," said McGonagall, irritably. "Surely you must know that, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco stared at her. He'd really never seen this side of her before.

"I..."

"There is _nothing_ wrong with you wanting to be friends with your cousin," she continued. "There is nothing wrong with you even loving him—after all, you _are_ family."

"Severus is my family too," said Draco, softly.

"Of course he is," smiled McGonagall. "But like your parents, he has no right telling you not to associate yourself with the rest of your family...like Sirius..."

Draco nodded.

"These men are all acting childish," she went on. "And if you let them influence you like this, then you will be childish too. You're far too old and smart to be manipulated like this. You are old enough to make your own choices."

"That's what Professor Lupin told me last year," said Draco.

"Professor Lupin was right," said McGonagall. "He'd always been the wise one of the boys."

"Severus is smart too," said Draco, at once. "He's just..."

"Acting childish," said McGonagall. "Yes, I can see that."

Draco sighed.

"Look, everything that you're saying is true and it all makes sense and everything—but I just can't see how it's gonna work...me being friends with Sirius and with Severus..."

"Would you like me to speak to Severus?"

" _No_ ," said Draco, at once. "N-no professor, that's _not_ a good idea."

"Very well then," said McGonagall, simply. "Deal with it."

"But—"

"You're old enough to set them all straight," she declared. "You're old enough to defend yourself."

"But professor, I can't!"

" _Yes_ , you can."

Draco shook his head slowly. She wasn't getting it. It was easy for her to say—she was probably raised in a decent family. She was head of Gryffindor house, which meant that she had been in Gryffindor herself. No one would ever understand the things that Slytherins went through unless they were a Slytherin themselves.

"Of course, you could always knock on Professor Slughorn's door and see what _he_ thinks," said McGonagall, as though she'd just read Draco's mind. "I'm sure he'll be of more help to you than I am, given that he is a fellow Slytherin."

"I—"

"But you came into _my_ office because you must've realised on some level that I know what I'm talking about," McGonagall concluded.

Draco shut his mouth and nodded slowly. He actually wasn't sure what had possessed him to turn up in her office that evening. He wasn't sure whether what she was telling him would do more good than damage. The only thing he was sure of at this point, was that he didn't regret showing up there one bit. It had been the wisest decision he'd made in weeks.

"Mr. Malfoy," said McGonagall, snapping him back to reality.

"Sorry, professor?" he said.

" _I said,_ you should go back to your dormitory now. It's very late."

Draco nodded and stood up instantly. However he stopped at the door and turned to look at Professor McGonagall, who was still sitting behind her desk.

"Thank you, professor," he said.

She nodded once at him before he left.

He walked along the corridors with his head bent, and when he returned to the common room, he found that all his friends were already in bed (or at least pretending to be asleep so that they wouldn't have an awkward encounter with him about Pansy and what had happened just an hour ago). Draco undressed and got into bed, feeling wide awake. He stared up at the ceiling and then gave up after just half an hour and moved to sit at the window ledge, where he could admire the lake sparkling beneath the moonlight. He'd never thought he'd come to this opinion before, but he now had a generous amount of respect for his Transfiguration teacher.

Draco spent the rest of the week avoiding both Severus and Sirius. He knew that if he saw either of them, he wouldn't be able to do it—set the ultimatum. But more importantly, he knew that Professor McGonagall was right. Severus and Sirius had to know that it was either going to be Draco talking to both of them, or not to either of them. There was no choosing here.

Three days before the big match between Slytherin and Gryffindor, Draco received the most exciting letter of his existence. He was having dinner in the Great Hall and staring up at the dark ceiling above, listening to the occasional rumbling of thunder from afar, when suddenly a tardy brown owl flew up to the Slytherin table and dropped a white envelope onto Draco's lap. Everyone at the table watched him curiously—the mail only ever arrived in the mornings. But once Draco saw the slanted writing on the front of the envelope, he knew that this wasn't a letter he wanted to read with an audience.

So he waited until dinner was over and he was back in the safety of his dormitory. Once alone, he ripped the letter open with shaking hands, feeling anxious about what he would find there...his father never wrote unless it was something bad.

 _Draco,_

 _It has come to my attention that earlier this year, Rubeus Hagrid unleashed another one of those miserable beasts of his for a lesson, which resulted in a student getting injured. I learned that you helped that student and that ever since, you have been working with her to build a case against that miserable oaf._

 _I never thought I'd say this, but you remind me a lot of myself. This is exactly the sort of thing that I would have done. It is completely unacceptable that Dumbledore allows this thing teach classes at the school. I don't know what Hogwarts has become, but this is a disgrace to wizards everywhere._

 _Continue to do right by your forefather... It is these roots where you belong._

 _Lucius_

Draco sat there, heart beating fast and eyes slightly watery. The letter was now shaking in his trembling hands as he continued to stare down at it. Outside, the thunder rumbled again. This letter was not only the single most honest thing his father had ever said to him...it did not only indicate that there really was a human being underneath all that bitterness and aggression. It was also Draco's answer to the very question he'd been asking himself for the past two and a half months...why _was_ he helping Pansy?

The next day—and the day after that—marked the beginning of Draco's new life...the life where he had a father who approved and was actually proud. And suddenly, Draco was walking with a little more confidence, and laughing a lot more about his friends' idiocy. He even got along more with the older Slytherins, a task that was usually quite difficult for him, considering he wasn't sure where his views stand. But his father's single letter had boosted his confidence by a thousand percent.

Marcus Flint was just as determined to win this match as he was to win the Quidditch Cup that year, and so he had the team practicing every chance that they could. Draco even found himself practicing in his sleep, which also didn't really matter because he too was very interested in winning.

The day before the match was extremely rainy however, and so Flint just gathered the team for a quick meeting in the common room early in the morning (reminding them all to keep up their hard work for tomorrow) and then sent them off. Now realising that he had the whole day free, Draco decided to finally address a matter that he'd been neglecting for days...

He had known for some time now that Hermione was generally being very emotional...and he of course had his suspicions as to why that might be, but what Pansy had said to him that day in Hogsmeade was really starting to bother him now...because the more he interacted with Hermione, the more he started to suspect it might be true. Nevertheless, he knew he had to talk to her at least. He had to get to the bottom of this and find out just what the hell was going on. But Hermione was keeping very busy and was hardly showing herself in the library. So, that day, Draco took it upon himself to seek her out. He wasn't going to let her get away without answering him just this one question, however awkward it might be.

He first tried the library of course, and then silent corridor on the fifth floor where she sometimes sat cross-legged in the corner with a book. When he failed to find her, he gritted his teeth together and went up to Gryffindor Tower. He waited by the portrait of the Fat Lady until someone came out, and then he requested they go back in and fetch Hermione. But even that didn't work. She simply did not want to be found. This didn't make things any easier.

Frustrated, Draco returned to the Great Hall for a study period. He had just entered when an idea suddenly hit him. It was sitting just at the edge of the long Gryffindor table, with a book propped up against a vase of apples. Draco hesitated before walking all the way along the Gryffindor table. He swore he could feel heads turning as he passed. He finally stopped at the edge and Neville Longbottom looked up at him.

"Oh," he said, quickly shutting the book he was reading. "Hi."

"Hey," said Draco. He looked around the Great Hall, all heads turned to him, and then sat down.

Gasps issued from every corner, and Draco could feel a strong stare by a pair of emerald green eyes. Ignoring all of this, he leaned forwards and lowered his voice.

"What's up with Hermione lately? Have you seen her?"

"Not today," said Longbottom, shaking his head. "Is she okay?" he added in alarm.

"She's fine," said Draco, dismissively. "But I'm beginning to think you might know why she's been acting so weird with me this year."

"I—"

"She's always so emotional and extra weird around _me_ and...I just...don't pretend like you don't know because I'm almost certain she's told you."

"She hasn't," said Longbottom, instantly. "I promise you."

"Well then why...?"

"I can't be sure," said Longbottom, pausing. "I...I have my theories, but I can't be sure."

Draco stared at him.

"You have your _theories?"_ he repeated.

"So do you," Longbottom observed.

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but then stopped himself and nodded for him to go on.

"Anyway, if there is something going on, it'll be something she'd have told one of her girlfriends, not me."

"But you guys are close."

"Yeah, but I'm still a boy, just like you," said Longbottom, shrugging. "I just don't think she'd tell me something like that."

He hesitated, shrugged again, and then reopened his book, cueing Draco to leave.

 _Something like what_ , thought Draco as he made his way out of the Great Hall, heads still turning as he passed. Honestly, wasn't there anything more interesting happening nowadays than a Slytherin sitting at the Gryffindor table for literally two minutes?

Draco awoke on the morning of the match to a loud storm outside. He groaned and quickly dressed in his Quidditch robes. When he came downstairs, he found the entire team sitting there and sulking.

"What's up?" Draco asked them, his broom hanging over his shoulder.

"We're gonna get slaughtered today," said Avery.

"No we're not," said Draco.

"Yeah, we are," said Flint. "Our brooms aren't equipped for this kind of weather."

"What, and you think the Gryffindors' are?" laughed Draco. "Have you _seen_ what they ride? They have four bloody Weasleys on the team. Don't you know the Weasleys can't even afford a toothpick?"

 _The only reason you even have a broom is because of Severus_ , said a voice inside his head, which sounded annoyingly like Hermione. Draco shook his head violently and slumped on the couch.

"So what are we gonna do?" he said.

"Should we opt out?" Avery asked Flint. "We could feign an illness...say there was a death or something..."

"Are you guys seriously that terrified of losing today?" laughed Blaise. "Come on, people. Lighten up! It'll be great. I'm excited actually."

"You are?" said Draco, eyebrows raised.

"Hell yeah!" cried Blaise. "What's more fun than Quidditch in the rain? And if we're lucky, we might get a chance to make it even more interesting..."

* * *

All Draco could see as he sped through the rain, totally and completely drenched, was the little gold that he was chasing. Down below, red and green blobs were flying here and there. Lightning flickered occasionally, but the crowd below was still cheering the match on. The score was tied now and the rain ever so heavy. But still, Draco chased after the snitch, feeling very aware of the red blob he now had for a shadow. Potter was just behind him, no doubt panicked that Draco was growing closer to winning this match.

He was fairly pleased with having chosen the Comet for this match. His Nimbus was like his baby...it would just hurt too much to see anything happen to it. But even so, Potter was a lot faster on his magnificent broom—he was getting closer now. Draco grew anxious.

Just as he began to think that Potter might be able to turn this around and get to the snitch before him, Draco spotted something terrifyingly black in the distance...and then another...

Everything suddenly grew still and incredibly cold. Draco's mind was starting to race and panic seeped into his core. He twirled around in his broom but Potter flew off. Draco was now chasing him. He swore this must be some kind of a death wish of his...really, how important was it to win some stupid Quidditch match when these dementors were getting ready to attack them any second? They needed to get out of there... _right now_.

"POTTER!" he shouted through the pouring rain. "FORGET—THE—SNITCH!"

Potter twirled round instantly and chased after Draco, both of them trying to get as far away from those dementors as humanly possible under the circumstances.

"WHAT SHOULD WE DO?!" Draco shouted into the rain.

"DO WHAT SIRIUS IS TRAINING US TO DO!" Potter shouted back.

Draco did not need telling twice. Flying blindly, he shut his eyes and ransacked his mind for a memory— _any_ memory—that would do the trick. There was no time to think about it now. He had to act. Fast.

But all of a sudden, time became still and the rain was no longer a factor. It was as though the last three years had not even happen. It was as though they'd been a surreal dream...

XXXXXXXXXX

 _"I know you," said the girl. "You're that boy that lives over in the little house, just beyond the hills."_

 _"I might be," said Draco, placing his hands in his pockets. "Aren't you that girl that lives over in one of those rich rows of houses beyond the other hills?"_

 _"I might be," she replied, raising her chin. "What are you doing here? Were you spying on me?"_

 _"Yeah, like I have nothing better to do than spy on you," said Draco, scoffing. "Don't be so self-centered. I just came to hang out here. I didn't realise you were here."_

 _"Oh," said the girl. "Well, you'd better go then because this space is occupied today."_

 _"No way!" said Draco, who was not feeling kind today. "Look, this is my only time to play, alright? So sorry to break it to you, but you're just going to have to share this space."_

 _"Fine!" cried the girl, and she firmly turned her back on him and continued with her book._

 _Knowing perfectly well that he couldn't make a fool of himself and practice Quidditch in front of this girl, Draco casually seated himself beside her, with his back facing hers. He pulled at a bit of grass and began to magically twirl the pieces on his palm._

 _"But just so you know, I'm ignoring you," said the girl, stubbornly, a few seconds later._

 _"Fine by me," Draco muttered in response._

 _"I don't want anything to do with you," said the girl. "You're too rude for my liking."_

 _"Whatever," said Draco._

 _"And I don't even care about your name either," continued the girl._

 _Draco sighed. He pulled at some more grass and made a few more circles in the air._

 _"The name's Draco," he said, after a long moment's silence._

 _"Hermione," said the girl, defiantly._

 _"Wicked name," said Draco._

 _Hermione ignored him and continued reading. Draco soon grew bored with the leaves and brushed them from his hands. He sighed, looked around the bright meadow, and then casually glanced at the book in Hermione's lap._

 _"The Count of Monte Cristo?" he read aloud._

 _Hermione pulled the book closer to herself but nodded._

 _"It's a good one," said Draco, mostly to himself. "I've read most of Alexandre Dumas' works. The Black Tulip; that's a wicked one. I think some of his earlier work is the best."_

 _This surprised Hermione a great deal and she turned her body around completely to face Draco._

 _"Y-you've read Alexandre Dumas?" she said, quietly._

 _"Sure," said Draco, shrugging. "I've read pretty much everything there is out there to read."_

 _"You have not," said Hermione._

 _"Yeah, I have," said Draco, who was growing frustrated. Who did this girl think she was? She acted like she owned the bloody world and knew everything about everyone._

 _"So you've read Shakespeare then?" said Hermione, smartly._

 _"Some," said Draco. "Macbeth, Hamlet, Julius Caesar, King Lear…"_

 _"Have you read Tolkien's work?"_

 _"If you're talking about the Lord of the Rings series, then yeah, I have," said Draco._

 _"That's amazing," said Hermione, who seemed too shocked for words._

 _"What's amazing?" said Draco, who stared at her as though she'd come from another planet, "That another human being could actually be interested in literature?"_

 _"Well, yeah," said Hermione. "I mean...most kids our age don't read books that are that long. How old are you, anyway?"_

 _"Eleven," said Draco, grunting._

 _"Me too," said Hermione. "Well, I'm turning eleven, anyway...this coming September."_

 _"Cool," said Draco, who was already bored with this conversation. "Well, I'm off now."_

 _He jumped to his feet and began to walk away._

 _"I thought you were going to stay here because it's your only time to play!" Hermione called after him, and she too, got to her feet._

 _"I changed my mind," Draco called back without looking at her._

XXXXXXXXXX

Draco watched himself walking away from Hermione in the meadow and tried to scream so that he'd turn back around. But the words wouldn't come out. He, Draco, walked on, and Hermione watched him until he was out of sight. Then, she sat back on the grass, ripped at a few bits, and began magically twirling them in her palm.

That day, it was clear to both of them that their brief meeting had been the start of a lifelong friendship.

Now, up in the air, in this furious storm with several dementors getting closer to him, Draco opened his eyes and pointed his wand. He channeled this warm feeling from the meadow into the depths of his heart and, ignoring everything else around him, yelled "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

The light that erupted from his wand was definitely powerful, but it collided with that from another's wand… _Potter's_ wand. Frustrated, Draco lost concentration and the light disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Soon, all he could see and all he could feel was darkness—a never-ending supermassive black hole of numbness, fear, and a lot of ache. Draco was aching all over. His body had never felt more alive and more in pain than it did now. The ringing in his ears was the subject of his parents yelling at each other in what, to this day, Draco remembered to be the worst night of his existence. It was the day when their fight had gone too far.

Feeling himself suddenly light, Draco glanced sideways just in time to see Potter's red blob flying through the air, broomless. It was then that Draco blacked out completely.

* * *

When he came to, he could hear an array of different voices talking all at once. None of them however seemed to be aware that he could hear them, so Draco kept very still and very silent, listening. From what he could already make out, the entire Slytherin Quidditch team was huddled around him. Pansy and Regina were also there, and so was Hermione. For some reason, Professor Slughorn was there was well. Draco felt his fingers twitch slightly. It was a warm and comfortable bed…the hospital wing! That's where he was!

But then that must mean that he got hurt during the match. He thought back to what had happened, but for some reason, his mind was completely clouded over.

"Dumbledore said those foul things had no business coming into the school grounds," said Theo's voice. "I overheard him."

"I did too," said Hermione, who sounded a lot closer to Draco than Theo did. Draco suspected she was sitting just next to him.

"Pomfrey said he'll be fine so you all can calm down already," said Pansy, shrilly.

"Easy Pansy, he fell over a hundred feet!" said Regina.

"Professor," said Flint's voice. "Could you maybe find out what day the rematch will be moved to?"

"Oh come now, Marcus, surely we can wait until the poor boy wakes?" said Slughorn.

"No sir, we can't," said Flint.

But Draco wasn't listening to him anymore. He could hear other whispers in the room…fainter whispers. A man and a woman, whose voices he didn't recognise, were talking to Sirius and Lupin. Draco couldn't make out everything that they were saying, but he was sure he'd heard the words 'dementors' and 'Wormtail'. But before he could even strain his ears to listen, he heard something even more alarming…something that made his heart stop for a good seven seconds.

Avery had moved to the side of Draco's bed where he suspected Hermione must be, and he said, "You okay there?"

There was a pause.

"Yeah," she replied, softly. "I'm just really worried…"

"He'll make it," said Avery, his own voice uncharacteristically soft. "It's Draco, for crying out loud. When has he ever not made it?"

Hermione chuckled lightly.

It was at that moment that Draco decided it was time to wake up. His eyes flew open.

"DRACO!" shrieked Hermione, throwing herself at him.

Her bushy hair obscured his vision, which was good nonetheless, considering the blinding light of the hospital wing made his eyes sting. Several moments later, he was sitting up against his pillow, looking round at all the wet, muddy faces staring back at him with concern.

"I'm fine," he told them.

They breathed collectively.

Draco looked around the hospital wing and found a group of people, most of them dressed in scarlet robes, huddled around a bed on the other side. A woman with long, red hair and a man with dark, messy hair were sitting there too, along with Lupin and Sirius. It only took Sirius a few seconds to glance in Draco's direction. He then jumped up and strode across the room at once, only stopping at the foot of Draco's bed.

"How're you doing?" he asked, sharply.

Draco smiled faintly. "I'm okay."

Sirius let out a sigh of relief. "You gave me a right scare there, mate."

"You scared all of us!" said Hermione in a small voice.

Draco frowned at the hand on her shoulder…the hand that belonged to Avery. Seeing this, Avery quickly pulled it away and sat on the bed neighbouring Draco's. Draco continued to watch him.

"Well listen," said Flint, catching his attention again. "You and Potter both fell from your brooms, so Dumbledore said this match won't count."

"What happened?" said Draco.

"He said there'll be a rematch," said Flint, casting Slughorn a look. "But we don't know when."

"I meant with me and Potter," said Draco. "What happened?"

There was a pause.

"You don't remember?" said Pansy, who was sitting on Draco's other side, and getting some very strange looks from Hermione.

Draco shook his head.

"The dementors came into the grounds even though they weren't supposed to and they went after you and Harry and then you both lost consciousness and fell off your brooms together," said Hermione, very quickly, as though afraid someone else would tell him before she could.

Draco glanced at Sirius.

"Is…is my broom…?"

But Sirius' expression said it all, so Draco lay back on his pillow and shut his eyes.

"There's something else you should know," said Theo's voice. Draco opened his eyes again and waited. Theo bit on his lip and glanced nervously at the others before saying, very quietly, "Your mother is here."

"W-what?" said Draco.

"She's here at the school," said Hermione. "Dumbledore called her."

"Why did he do that?"

"Because he was required to," said Pansy. "Whenever a student that's not of age gets critically hurt, their parents are to be informed at once."

"I'm not critically hurt," Draco pointed out.

"Have you _seen_ yourself, mate?" said Blaise.

So Draco looked down at himself for the first time since he'd woken up. He now saw the bandages around his fingers and the cast on his elbow. He now felt pain in every inch of his body. He now felt the stitches on his left cheek and the ache on the side of his head.

"Sirius!" called a voice from the other end of the hospital wing.

Sirius turned on his heel at once and marched back to the bed surrounded by scarlet people. Potter was now awake too.

"How is he?" Draco found himself asking.

"A lot better than you," said Pansy, miserably.

"His broom didn't even get a scratch," said Regina.

"But he still got hurt too," said Hermione, at once.

Both Pansy and Regina ignored her.

Hermione turned to Draco. "I overheard Dumbledore telling Sirius that just before you both fell, you managed to cast the Patronus Charm."

"I did?" said Draco.

Hermione nodded. "Both of you…and your charms collided and that's what caused this sort of blinding effect—"

"Did he…say what the shape of it was?" said Draco.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know."

Draco looked round at Potter's bed again, and this time spotted Lupin sitting next to Longbottom.

"What's he doing here?" he asked, his eyes still on his former professor.

"He came for the match," said Hermione.

Sirius then returned to Draco's bed.

"Harry's awake," he told Hermione.

She glanced at Draco.

"Go," he said.

She smiled, then stood up and went to the other side of the room. Sirius took her seat beside Draco and put his hand on his forehead.

"Everything seems alright up there," he said, mostly to himself.

"I told you, I'm fine," said Draco.

"You don't _look_ fine," said Pansy.

"Actually, he looks like death," said Blaise, whose entire face was covered in mud.

Draco chuckled.

"I suppose I'll go inform Dumbledore that both our boys are awake," said Slughorn, before he awkwardly trotted out of the hospital wing.

Draco looked at Sirius, then hesitated before lowering his voice to that of a hushed whisper.

"Have you…seen her…yet?"

Sirius did not need to ask what he was talking about, but simply shook his head.

Draco sighed. He doubted his mother would actually come into the hospital wing to make sure he was alright, so there wasn't any need for him to even worry about her seeing Sirius there.

But he couldn't have been more wrong.

At that moment, the doors to the hospital wing burst open and Narcissa marched inside, followed closely by a concerned-looking Severus. Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall, along with Madame Pomfrey, followed shortly after. Draco felt his entire face become pale at the sight of his mother. She marched over to his bed and the Slytherins parted to make room for her. At the sight of her, Sirius had moved to the very back of the crowd so that she wouldn't see him…and wisely so.

"Draco!" she hissed once she'd finally arrived at his bed. "What on earth has happened?!"

Draco opened his mouth to explain, but never got the chance to, because it appeared that Sirius had changed his mind. He now made his way to the front of the crowd and looked directly at Narcissa. She looked back at him.

"Narcissa," he said, acknowledging her.

Draco watched his mother nervously. The look of deep loathing was emphasized on her strong face. Draco had always thought that she could kill someone with that piercing look. It was then that he realised how lucky it was that Hermione was sitting at Potter's bed now, and not his own. Today was not a good day for her to be introduced to his mother.

"Why, you have some nerve," she said to Sirius now. "How dare you turn up here?"

Sirius frowned.

"Now is that any way to talk to one of your son's professors?" he said, his hands behind his back.

"You little _twit_ ," said Draco's mother. "And by the way, you have _no right_ giving my child private lessons on weekends—as I recall, that's not a part of your job description. Just stick to what it is you're supposed to do in this your pathetic job."

"At least I _have_ a job," Sirius shot back. "At least if I had a family, I'd be willing to support it."

Draco's eyes fell on Severus, whom he now caught watching him with a pained expression.

"You okay?" he mouthed.

Draco nodded slowly.

"And if I hadn't started giving your child these lessons," Sirius went on, hotly, "He'd likely be dead right now."

Draco started. He himself hadn't even realised how true those words were. If he hadn't started these lessons with Potter and Sirius, he wouldn't be in this room right now to watch his mother bickering with her long forgotten cousin.

"You're to leave him alone," she now declared. "you're not going to fill his brain with your nonsense.'

"Mother, stop," said Draco, at once.

" _You_ …" she said, turning around to glare at him, "…will stay out of this."

"NO," said Draco, even more loudly. The entire hospital wing was now silent and all eyes were on them. "I want to take these lessons with Sirius. I'm going to."

Narcissa took a step towards him.

"I _forbid_ you to," she said, her voice as cold as eve.

Severus placed his hand on her shoulder, but couldn't bring himself to say anything. His expression was still the most pained Draco had ever seen. Draco glanced at Sirius, who was watching him, and then back at Hermione, who was talking to Potter. His eyes finally landed on his mother again.

"I don't care," he said.

Her eyebrows rose at once.

"I'm sorry?"

"You heard me," said Draco. "I—don't—care."

Blaise grinned.

"I don't care that you're my mother," Draco went on. "I don't care that you're saying no. _I'm_ saying yes. _I_ get to decide, not you. After all, I'm not a child anymore, am I?"

"No, but you still live in my house," said Narcissa, her face hot with fury.

"I can leave," said Draco.

Before his mother could ask where he'd go, however, he gave himself away by glancing in Sirius' direction. Narcissa glared at him.

"I suppose _this_ is what you've been feeding my child?" she rounded on him at once. "Brainwashing him and manipulating him into hating me and hating us and wanting to get away?"

"Oh no," said Sirius. "No Cissy, you did _that_ all on your own, without needing any of my help."

"I beg your pardon?" said Narcissa, now pulling out her wand. "You want to say that again to me?"

"MOTHER, NO!" Draco shouted, suddenly pulling himself out of bed.

But before he knew it, his mother's hand flew in his face and smacked him. Hard.

Draco fell back on his bed, his hand now holding the cheek that was stitched up. Narcissa leaned forwards.

" _I_ will do the commanding around here," she reminded him.

And then, without another word, she hurried back out of the hospital wing. Severus gave Draco an apologetic look before running after her. Sirius' own eyes were round, as well as the entire Quidditch team's. Blaise was no longer smiling either. When the door to the hospital wing banged shut after Severus had left, Hermione flew over to Draco's side and reached to touch his cheek.

"Don't," he told her at once, moving away on his bed so that she wouldn't touch him.

She silently moved back.

Breaking the silence in the hospital wing was Madame Pomfrey, who was bustling around with a tray of chocolate. She came to Draco's side and forced a large cube into his hands.

"EAT," she said at once.

Draco took it from her but did not eat right away. He was too concentrated on biting back the tears.

Dumbledore suddenly moved to the center of the room, and everyone turned to look at him. Everyone, except for Sirius, who was still watching Draco. But Draco couldn't bring himself to meet his eyes.

"I sincerely apologise to you both for tonight's incident," Dumbledore began, looking from Potter to Draco. "I will take it upon myself to make sure that it doesn't repeat itself anytime soon." He paused. "I am also sure that Professor Black is beyond proud of you both for trying to defend yourselves like that. Wizards far older and cleverer than you both have tried and failed to produce the Patronus Charm, yet you two were able to produce the non-corporeal version of it tonight. Well done."

Draco silently bit into his chocolate. Its warmth spread throughout his body instantly, and before long, he had finished the entire cube. Madame Pomfrey handed him another.

The door to the hospital wing opened again. Draco half-expected it to be Severus, but it was only some Gryffindor girl, who looked slightly taken aback by her wide audience now.

"H-hello," she said, awkwardly.

"Who's that?" Pansy whispered to Regina.

"Lavender Brown," said Hermione, also watching the girl curiously.

"I think," said Dumbledore, casting both sides of the room a warm smile, "We should let our two boys have their rest."

Everyone began to file out of the hospital wing, but Draco grabbed a hold of Avery's arm before he could follow.

"What are you playing at?" he hissed at him.

"Later," said Avery. "You should rest, Mr. Malfoy."

"You—"

But Avery only smirked at him and followed the Slytherin Quidditch team out.

Sirius was the last one by Draco's bed. He continued to stare down at him, shock-stricken and not knowing what to say.

"I'll pop in later then?" he said in a hoarse voice.

Draco nodded.

Sirius hesitated, and then left the hospital wing without even acknowledging his godson, who was now sitting up in his bed with the blonde Gryffindor girl just at his side. Draco turned his back on both of them and drowned out their whispered conversation. The tears from the pain of his mother's slap finally began crumbling down his cheeks, but they were silent tears. He felt no anger. Just numbness. And fatigue.

* * *

 _Joint_

* * *

Draco awoke at one o'clock that night from a very bizarre dream. He looked around the dark hospital wing and his eyes landed on the boy sitting in the bed right across from his, with a lit wand pointed at a book. Harry slowly shut the book but placed his lit wand on his bedside table.

"They moved you?" said Draco.

"Yeah, earlier," said Harry. "How…um, do they hurt?"

Draco brought his hand to the stitches on his cheek—the very same cheek his mother had slapped—and then shook his head.

"How about you?" he said. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

Harry shrugged. "My body feels numb and there are just a few bandages on my left arm but nothing more than that." He paused. "I think you got the worst end here."

"No kidding," Draco muttered, his hand still stroking his cheek.

"I'm sorry about your broomstick," said Harry after a short silence. "Is there no chance of fixing it?"

Draco looked away from him. "No."

"Well maybe Sirius will help," said Harry. "He's rich, you know."

Draco said nothing. Right now, he couldn't care less about his broomstick, though he was sure once he had time to adjust to the news later, it would hit him hard. He looked round at Harry again.

"What memory did you use?" he asked him. "Up there, when we were with the dementors…"

Harry hesitated. "It was more of a story that my parents told me a bunch of times…"

"What story?"

"Of how they got together."

"How sweet," said Draco, rolling his eyes. He'd been sure that whatever memory Harry used, it would be something as pathetic as that.

"Well what about you?" said Harry. "What memory did _you_ choose?"

"The day I met Hermione," said Draco, simply.

Harry cringed, but then tried to quickly cover it up with a small smile.

"That's nice," he mumbled.

"Yeah, yeah, listen," said Draco, sitting up in his bed. "You're pals with that Weasley girl, right?"

"Yeah…" said Harry, slowly.

"She ever mention anything that Hermione might have told her?"

"About?"

"You know…stuff…" said Draco, slowly.

Harry frowned at him, but then all became clear.

"I think that's a conversation you should have with Hermione."

"Oh come on, Potter, you have like, years and years' worth of memories with Sirius. You owe me here."

Harry laughed. "Well then ask Ginny yourself. I'm not getting caught up in the middle of this."

"The middle of what?"

"So your mum is quite the sweet sunshine," said Harry, casually.

Draco groaned. "Yeah well…that's mum…"

"Sorry you've had to grow up with that all this time," said Harry, quietly. "I reckon it must be awful."

"You think?" said Draco. "I didn't see much of your mum, but she definitely looked a lot different than mine."

"She is," said Harry, "And I'm lucky for it."

Draco rolled his eyes at him.

"But you can't blame me for how your childhood's been," said Harry at once. "It's not my fault. The Dark Lord needed to be stopped that night—even you must know that."

Draco said nothing. He was too tired to get into this tonight. He hadn't planned on having a late night chat with Harry Potter. But the only reason he'd woken was because of that strange dream of him kissing Pansy…and _liking_ it.

Harry on the other hand, was desperate to get Draco to understand, if not tonight then another night, that he couldn't blame him for how horrible or miserable his childhood has been. If he realised that, and if he stopped blaming him, then maybe, _just maybe_ , they'd even have a shot at being friends…or pen pals. Harry knew that would please Sirius very much, and he wasn't about to go losing his godfather over a bloke like Draco Malfoy. If he could just learn to get along with him, maybe all would be well.

"Pettigrew broke into the castle the other night," Harry blurted out.

Draco's head snapped up. " _When did this happen?!"_

"Just last week," said Harry. "Ron and I saw him and then we went to tell Dumbledore."

"You actually saw him?"

"Well, his animagus form..."

"He's an animagus?!" cried Draco. "Dammit, what else don't I know?"

Harry bit his lip. "Sirius, Remus, Pettigrew and my dad were all friends when they were here at school...and they all learned how to become animagi."

"Lupin is an animagus?!"

"Well no, not him," said Harry. "The other three learned the process so that they could join him on full moons."

"Join him where?"

"Just places..." said Harry.

There was a pause.

"What did Dumbledore say when you told him?" Draco asked.

"He said it's best not to tell anyone else so that there wouldn't be a panic," said Harry. "But he also said he'd tighten up the security around here."

"Is that why we were chased through the air by a hoard of dementors?!" Draco exclaimed.

"NO," said Harry, at once. "Dumbledore didn't know anything about that—he was really mad they'd gotten into the grounds and he sent them straight off."

"Whatever," said Draco, who was clearly displeased with the headmaster's way of dealing with things. "Does he know what Pettigrew was doing here at Hogwarts?" Harry hesitated. "I mean, he's an escapee from Azkaban…why go trotting around his old school in the middle of the night? _Especially_ when it's now guarded by dementors of all things?"

"Because…" said Harry, not sure whether he should say this, but even more unsure of why he felt the need to. "Because…the articles are right." Draco frowned. "He _is_ after me."

"He is…?" said Draco. "But…but why?"

Harry took a deep breath. "Peter Pettigrew betrayed my parents, years ago. And because of them, well because of me, he's been locked up in Azkaban ever since. Dumbledore thinks he's escaped to find his master again…and I might be part of the plan to find him."

"You mean Voldemort," said Draco.

Harry nodded.

"So Pettigrew needs you in order to find Voldemort," said Draco.

Again, Harry nodded.

"Well, shit then!" said Draco.

Harry laughed.

"How do you feel about that?"

"Honestly," said Harry. "Not even a little bit scared. I'm actually angry."

"Yeah, I'd be angry too," said Draco. "How did he betray your parents?"

"He told Voldemort where they were hiding," said Harry. "There was this whole prophecy thing, I don't know if you've heard of it…"

"Of course I've heard of it!" exclaimed Draco. "I don't live in a cave! Well, sort of…"

Harry smirked. "Anyway, I just thought you should know."

"Why?"

"Because it's weird for you not to," Harry admitted. "I can't really explain it."

Draco nodded.

"Well…" he said, after a moment's silence. "I think I'll just go back to bed then."

"Yeah, me too," said Harry, quickly. He turned off the light illuminating from the tip of his wand and got back into bed just as Draco did the same on his side.

Tomorrow, they would deal with their problems. Tomorrow, Draco would hate his mother and tomorrow, Harry would worry about Pettigrew. But for now, they would sleep, because it didn't look like they'd have another chance like this again, for a good night's sleep.

* * *

 **Thanks.**


	26. Year 3: Ho-Ho-Hogwarts

**A/N** **: I'm sosososososo sorry, readers. I know it's been two months. I hope you guys don't think I've given up because as I've said before, I'm not one to give up.** **I will finish the story** **. Definitely, definitely. And again, so sorry about the gap in updates. I will try my absolute very best to wrap up year 3 within the next couple of weeks and get started on year 4. Lots of stuff going on in my life and another fanfic to write, so I've been busy, busy.**

 **A friend of mine, Trusted Trouble, has released a new story I think you guys should check out. It's called "Of A Brother's Love" and it is oh so worth your time! It's still in its early stages but I know it's going to be amazing because I'm beta-ing it and I've seen what the author can do and she's brilliant so do check her out while you're waiting for my updates!**

 **A message for Nilpferd1880: thanks so much for your review, it is GREATLY appreciated and I hope you enjoy the rest of the story! (And my other fanfic of course)**

 **Disclaimer** **: Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks**

* * *

 ** _PREVIOUSLY ON "AN UNKINDNESS OF WIZARDS"..._**

 _"When Voldemort discovered the famous Prophecy that marked you as his next victim, I advised your parents to go into hiding in the village where I grew up myself. Sirius told your parents it would be safer for them to select a keeper like Peter—someone who the Dark Lord would likely overlook."_

 _"Yeah, except Pettigrew wasn't on the good side anymore," said Harry._

 _Dumbledore smiled. "No one could have known."_

 _"But why didn't they die? Wasn't it impossible for anyone to escape him?"_

 _"Your parents and I had known for quite some time that he'd be coming after them eventually. We took precautions."_

 _—_

 _"Hagrid," Harry said. "We went out last night to see him."_

 _"How's he doing?" said Ginny._

 _"Not good," said Hermione._

 _"How do you know?" said Ron._

 _"I've been visiting him," said Hermione, sheepishly._

 _"Since when are you and Hagrid best pals?" said Ron._

 _"Since it's not a crime to visit one of your teachers and see how they're doing," said Hermione before turning abruptly away from him._

 _"That was a little insensitive," Neville told Ron._

 _"Oh whatever," said Ron, shrugging. "It's not my fault she takes everything way too seriously."_

 _"Ron, you're such a pinhead!" said Ginny._

 _—_

 _"He is being a child," said McGonagall, irritably. "Surely you must know that, Mr. Malfoy."_

 _Draco stared at her. He'd really never seen this side of her before._

 _"I..."_

 _"There is nothing wrong with you wanting to be friends with your cousin," she continued. "There is nothing wrong with you even loving him—after all, you are family."_

 _"Severus is my family too," said Draco, softly._

 _"Of course he is," smiled McGonagall. "But like your parents, he has no right telling you not to associate yourself with the rest of your family...like Sirius..."_

 _—_

 _"She's always so emotional and extra weird around me and...I just...don't pretend like you don't know because I'm almost certain she's told you."_

 _"She hasn't," said Longbottom, instantly. "I promise you."_

 _"Well then why...?"_

 _"I can't be sure," said Longbottom, pausing. "I...I have my theories, but I can't be sure."_

 _Draco stared at him._

 _"You have your theories?" he repeated._

 _"So do you," Longbottom observed. "And anyway, if there is something going on, it'll be something she'd have told one of her girlfriends, not me."_

 _—_

 _"You okay there?"_

 _"Yeah," she replied, softly. "I'm just really worried..."_

 _"He'll make it," said Avery, his own voice uncharacteristically soft. "It's Draco, for crying out loud. When has he ever not made it?"_

 _Hermione chuckled lightly._

 _—_

 _"So both of us passed out then?" said Harry. "Not just me?"_

 _"You both fell off your brooms," said Ginny. "Fred caught yours but Malfoy's flew into the Whomping Willow."_

 _—_

 _"I want to take these lessons with Sirius. I'm going to."_

 _Narcissa took a step towards him._

 _"I_ forbid _you to," she said, her voice as cold as ever._

 _Severus placed his hand on her shoulder but couldn't bring himself to say anything. His expression was still the most pained Draco had ever seen._

 _"I—don't—care," he said to his mother._

 _She rounded on Sirius._

 _"I suppose this is what you've been feeding my child?! Brainwashing him into hating me and wanting to get away?"_

 _"Oh no," said Sirius, "You did that all on your own, without needing any of my help."_

 _"You want to say that again to me?" she said, now pulling out her wand._

 _"MOTHER, NO!" Draco shouted, suddenly pulling himself out of bed._

 _But before he knew it, his mother's hand flew in his face and smacked him. Hard._

 _He fell back on his bed, his hand now holding the cheek that was stitched up. Narcissa leaned forward._

 _"_ I _will do the commanding around here," she reminded him._

 _—_

 _Sirius' eyes went round as Lily said, "What girl?"_

 _"Just a girl," said Remus, giving Sirius a knowing look._

 _"Who was the girl, Professor Lupin?" said Ginny, who looked to be in a very bright mood now. Ginny, Harry noticed, was eyeing Lupin with the utmost respect._

 _"She's an auror in training," said Remus, simply._

 _"So what happened then?" said Harry._

 _To his great astonishment, Remus said, "We...hit it off, actually."_

 _—_

 _"What memory did you use?" Draco asked him. "Up there, when we were with the Dementors..."_

 _Harry hesitated. "It was more of a story that my parents told me a bunch of times...the story of how they got together."_

 _"How sweet," said Draco, rolling his eyes._

 _"Well what about you?" said Harry. "What memory did you choose?"_

 _"The day I met Hermione," said Draco, simply._

 _Harry cringed._

 _"Pettigrew broke into the castle the other night," he blurted out._

 _Draco's head snapped up. "When did this happen?!"_

 _"Just last week. Ron and I saw him and then we went to tell Dumbledore."_

 _"You actually saw him?"_

 _"In his animagus form, yeah..."_

 _"HE'S AN ANIMAGUS?!" cried Draco. "But then what would he be doing at Hogwarts? What's he after?"_

 _Harry took a deep breath. "Me."_

 _Draco stared at him._

 _"Dumbledore thinks he's escaped to find his master again...and I might be part of the plan to find him."_

 _"So Pettigrew needs you in order to find Voldemort..." said Draco..._

* * *

CHAPTER 26: YEAR 3 _—_ HO-HO-HOGWARTS

* * *

 _Harry_

* * *

Harry stared down at the piece of parchment in his lap for a long while, desperately trying to understand what on earth was going on in his mother's mind now and whether it was too early for her to be having a midlife crisis or whatnot.

 _"You need to re-evaluate some of the academic choices that you have been making and I know Hermione will be perfect in helping you to achieve this_."

What bloody potion was she on when she wrote this?!

 _"Your father agrees..."_ Well, that was a lie, surely. If there was one person Harry knew well, besides Sirius, it was his father.

"Come on, Lils, leave the kid alone, he's only being a guy," James would surely have said.

Harry could see it perfectly in his mind now.

Ever since he and Lavender had made the announcement that they were going out, it had gone viral throughout the school and, thanks to Fred and George, spread to the older students as well. It wasn't long before the teachers got a hold of this news and Harry was receiving heavy mail from his mother, demanding to know what was the meaning of this. Seriously, it was like she'd never been a teenager herself.

But now _this_ letter...kindly informing him that Hermione was his newly appointed tutor for the remainder of the school year...

Surely his mother didn't think he was an idiot! He knew perfectly well what this was about (he'd seen the way his mother had eyed Hermione back in the hospital wing) and quite frankly, he couldn't understand it. His mother barely knew Lavender—how could she just shoot her out completely without even getting to know her first? That wasn't the mother he'd known all his life. This strange, intrusive, and judgmental version of her was not one he liked very much. And Lavender had been nothing but nice to her in the hospital wing after the November match. _She_ was not the problem here.

The only good thing about the letter in Harry's lap now was his mother's request that he and Neville stay at Hogwarts for the holidays because apparently, she and James wanted to renovate the house.

"But how long does it take to do that?" Ron wondered when Harry told him and Neville together at dinner. "Just a couple of flicks of the wand and you're done."

But Neville shook his head.

"My mother is muggle-born, Ron," Harry explained.

"So?" said Ron.

" _So_ , she'll be wanting to do this the muggle way," said Harry.

As far as Harry was concerned, this was the single normal thing about the letter his mother had sent.

"Lily has always prided herself with her ability to astonish James in various muggle tricks and tactics," said Neville.

"Your parents are weird," Ron told Harry, who smirked back.

It had only been about a week and a half since Harry had left the hospital wing, but Malfoy had needed to stay a bit longer since he'd been injured more. A lot had changed since then. Harry now had his first official girlfriend, and Ron couldn't be more distraught. Both Harry and Malfoy received badges for their great pursuit of the Dementors and the rematch had been cancelled because the last game was called a tie. Wood and Flint were obviously devastated by this, but Harry didn't care much. He had a _girlfriend_ now. Everything was different.

As the weather got colder and the snow became heavier, students began packing up for the holidays or writing down their names on the list of those staying. It seemed that the news of Harry and Neville staying together at the castle was very upsetting to Ron because every time one of his brothers mentioned going to the burrow for the holidays, Ron got very quiet.

"You're not... _jealous_ , or anything, are you?" Harry asked him, amused.

"No," said Ron, looking away from him all red-faced with furrowed eyebrows.

Harry laughed. "Come on, your family's great. You can't seriously be upset about going home."

"I'm not upset about that," said Ron. The boys looked around to make sure they couldn't be heard by anyone in the common room. Then, Ron continued. "I asked mum a week ago if you guys could come home with us and she said that Dumbledore warned her not to let you go anywhere, under any circumstances."

 _"What?!"_ hissed Harry, frowning. "Why would he say that?"

"I'm willing to bet that it's because of Pettigrew," said Neville, cleverly.

"That's what I thought too," said Ron, "But then it hit me—Harry and I saw Pettigrew here not long ago, right in the castle!"

"SHHHH!" said Harry, looking round at Ginny who was sitting not far from them, talking to Hermione. He really didn't want anyone to find out about the Pettigrew sighting. He'd promised Dumbledore they wouldn't.

"Anyway," said Ron, "If Dumbledore was so concerned about Pettigrew, wouldn't he _not_ want Harry hanging around in the very place where Pettigrew broke in not even two weeks ago?"

"He makes a point," Harry observed, but Neville only shook his head.

"Dumbledore probably reckons it's better for you to be either at home where your parents can protect you, or here at Hogwarts, where he can," he said.

But somehow, Harry didn't feel much better about this.

"Suppose you'll just have to stay here then," sighed Ron, "with _Lavender_ to keep you company."

"Shut up, Ron," said Harry. "Lavender is going home for the holidays."

"She's gonna keep you _cozy!"_ he giggled.

Harry rolled his eyes at him. Ron was being awfully childish about the whole thing and it was kind of starting to annoy Harry, whereas Neville was more "I'll support you whatever you do" about it.

Truth be told, Lavender actually _had_ invited Harry to her house for the holidays, but he felt a little too awkward about the idea. It would just be him and her and her parents there for like a full week. He wasn't sure he was ready for that. So he settled for the idea of being at Hogwarts for Christmas with just Neville, a couple of other kids, and of course, Sirius.

And soon, the time came for Harry to say goodbye to his classmates and Ron as they all hurried through the doors of the Entrance Hall with their trunks and pet cages, and out into the snowy grounds for that long walk up to Hogsmeade Station.

Harry and Neville said their goodbyes and their "Merry Christmas"'s and waved their friends off, watching them descend down the path to the village. And then the cold wind swept over them and they decided it was time to return to the common room. Only when they got there, they realized that they weren't the only two Gryffindors who had stayed behind for the holidays. Hermione was too.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Harry asked her.

She looked up from her book and shrugged slightly. "My parents are going on a trip to France for the holidays."

Harry looked round at Neville before replying, "And you don't like the French...?"

"No," laughed Hermione. "It's not that at all! I adore France. In fact we go nearly every year."

"Well then what's the problem?" said Harry.

"Yeah, why aren't you going with them?" Neville added.

"Well there's just so much to do!" she began. "I have to start preparing for next term or I'll _really_ fall behind in my studies, and I need to think about what classes to sign up for next year because it's the fourth one that really counts _—_ "

"It is?" said Harry.

" _—_ and I've been helping Hagrid crack this Buckbeak case so I'll need to prep him for the trial and his pitch, no offense to Hagrid, really does need a lot of work, and _—_ "

" _—And_ , you know Malfoy's staying so that's really why you've put your name down to stay too," Harry rolled his eyes.

Hermione frowned at him.

"Oh come on, Hermione, your tricks aren't new to anyone," he went on. "But you don't have to lie about it."

Hermione's mouth fell slightly open.

"We won't make fun of you," Harry assured her. "I mean everyone knows about me and Lav so there's no reason why they should make fun of _you—_ "

" _—_ Who said Malfoy's staying for the holidays?" Hermione finally said, her expression completely different.

Harry paused. "Uh... _Malfoy did."_

"When?"

"When we were in the hospital and don't pretend like you didn't know, you're not fooling anybody..." but Harry's voice trailed off because Hermione's expression now told him that she in fact _didn't_ know.

"Excuse me," she said, her voice breaking slightly, as she jumped up, tossed her book to the nearest couch and hurried out of the common room.

Harry looked back at Neville. "Whoops."

Neville shrugged.

They spent most of that first evening quietly, enjoying the peace of the suddenly still common room which was otherwise always filled and crowded. Hermione didn't show up until much later and by then, they were all too tired to argue about anything.

Harry and Neville spent most of the next day exploring the quiet castle and enjoying the fact that they could hang out in any hallway, any room and at any table that they wanted, without being bothered by anyone. The teachers had gotten rid of the four house tables in the Great Hall, replacing them with one large round table where all the teachers and students who had remained dined together each day. Normally, this would've been quite awkward for any teenager, but having Sirius there made it actually cool. And Sirius was not at all surprised when Harry confided in him what Ron had said.

"It's very Dumbledore-like of Dumbledore," he explained. "And Ron's right—your parents _are_ weird."

Harry grinned.

He still couldn't believe that his mother was insisting on renovating the muggle way. But at least not having to see her would make it easier for him not to talk about Lavender. Sirius at least had the decency not to bombard Harry with questions or even tease him like he knew his father would if he were there. Sirius was way cooler than that.

So for most of the first couple of days, Harry and Neville just hung out with Sirius. They even took a trip with him to Hogsmeade one of the days and had a snow fight there because of the huge snow storm that came in overnight and left thick white sheets everywhere. Harry was having so much fun that he was able to forget all about the events of recent weeks. He knew that the time to worry would come and that this wasn't it.

Hermione rarely showed herself in the common room—she was either busy with Hagrid or off somewhere with Malfoy, so Harry and Neville were never bothered by anyone in the common room and could do whatever they wanted there.

On Christmas morning, the boys awoke in their dormitory to piles and piles of gifts on their beds' sides. Harry knew who the biggest ones were from of course. His father and Sirius always seemed to be in competition as to who could get the bigger present. His mother and Remus had each gotten him interesting books which he knew he'd eventually read, but for right now, he was only interested in the cool new quill that Lavender had gotten him, or even better, the broom cleaning kit that Hermione had gotten him. Harry stared at the present for a good couple of minutes, not understanding if there had possibly been a mistake and she'd perhaps meant this for _another_ boy...one who was in _Slytherin..._

"Watcha looking at?" Neville wondered from over his bed where he was peeling wrapping paper off of some rectangular object.

"Nothing," Harry muttered, sliding the broom cleaning kit out of view and reaching for the next present.

He made a mental note to find Hermione later and ask what the hell the expensive present was all about. They weren't even friends...as far as he knew, anyway...

"What'd you get from _Lavender?"_ said Neville.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Do you really have to say her name like that?"

"Course I do!" said Neville. "Well?"

"A quill," said Harry, simply. "Hey, what did dad get you?"

"I haven't opened his yet," Neville said, but Harry knew it was a lie. James' gift was always the first one that Neville opened because he was closest with him. So, Neville not telling Harry meant that it was something very personal this time.

"Hey Harry," said Neville, suddenly sitting up. "Do you think that maybe you started dating a little too early?"

Harry looked up. "How do you mean?"

"Well...you're thirteen years old, mate. Isn't that a little too early? Y-you and Lavender are the first to announce that they're a couple in our year..."

"I dunno," said Harry, shrugging slightly as he looked down again. "I mean, she's not _really_ my girlfriend..."

"Uh, _yeah,_ she is!" said Neville. Harry looked up again. "She holds your hand every time you're together, she follows you everywhere you go, and she always introduces you as her boyfriend. Let me tell you, Harry. You guys are in a relationship."

Harry looked down again.

"Look, we haven't done anything...and I like her...I'm good with taking things slow."

"You sound like such a grownup," Neville scoffed.

Harry grinned. "You'll get it someday."

Harry actually felt as though having Lavender for a girlfriend, even if it had only been for a week so far, had really made him grow up. He was seeing things in a new light. Things that he'd previously thought were cool now seemed annoying and childish. He felt very above all of the things he used to do and according to Neville, there wasn't really anything wrong with that, as long as Harry remembered who he was and didn't lose sight of that.

But truth be told, he did feel _slightly_ weird...like his friends were now worshipping him for something that he wasn't even sure he was ready for. And would Lavender start trying to...do stuff soon? Harry had never even kissed a girl before...what if he'd be bad at it and she'd use his fame against him to tell everyone in the school? Or even worse, the entire Wizarding world? He could see it now...the sea of Daily Prophet reporters fighting over who gets to print the story.

Hermione was gone again so the boys spent the morning fighting in the snow outside and then goofing off with the "other house" students who had stayed behind. A nervous first year boy in Hufflepuff and Hermione and Malfoy were the only exceptions to that.

Harry tried looking for Sirius that day to thank him for the amazing three books on Dark Arts and autographed cloaks from his team, but for some reason he couldn't find him.

"He's probably doing some stuff with the other teachers," Neville pointed out when he finally got Harry to confess why he was always looking around. "Don't worry about it."

So Harry tried his best not to worry about it. But when the time for the Christmas Feast arrived and Harry and Neville arrived in the Great Hall, the first abnormal thing occurred. And a little while later, another one followed.

The boys arrived in the Great Hall for the big Christmas Feast, only to find that Dumbledore was not there at the head of the table like he was supposed to be. And when all the teachers settled into their seats and began feasting on the delicious Christmas food, Harry realized that Sirius had failed to show as well. He only gave Neville a questioning look which his friend reciprocated right away, but they said nothing to each other because Professor Slughorn was in the middle of a very dull Christmas story.

Hermione was sitting across from them, right next to Malfoy who was also sitting next to Snape. Together, they watched Slughorn tell his story, but even Malfoy looked nervous. He glanced once at Harry and they shared their worries silently. Dumbledore and Sirius being absent from the feast was far from good.

Hagrid had failed to show up too, but that was probably understandable, under the circumstances. Harry and Neville exchanged a quick look, silently agreeing to visit the hut before bed that night. Ever since the whole deal with Buckbeak became public, Hagrid seemed to have lost his voice. He was barely speaking anymore…at least in public.

And every time Harry thought about why…about how Pansy was doing this to him…and Malfoy was _helping_ her, it only made him angrier.

The Christmas Feast was indeed very delicious but Harry found that he was unable to enjoy it, for fear and anxiety of what Dumbledore and Sirius could possibly be up to, that they _both_ had to be absent.

About halfway through, Professor Trelawney arrived at the feast, looking as strange and as weird as usual. Professor Slughorn seemed to be the only one there pleased to see her.

"Come, come, Sibyll, join us! We're just getting started on the nutmeg pies."

But Trelawney only stared at the table with round eyes, not moving from her spot.

"What's the matter now?" sighed Professor McGonagall.

"I dare not sit, professors," began Trelawney. "If I join the table, we shall be thirteen! Nothing could be more unlucky! Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!"

"We'll risk it, Sibyll," said Professor McGonagall impatiently.

Professor Trelawney hesitated, then lowered herself slowly into the empty chair, eyes shut and mouth clenched tight, as though expecting a thunderbolt to hit the table.

The professor behaved almost normally until the very end of Christmas dinner, two hours later. Full to bursting with Christmas, Harry decided he needed a minute to clear his head. Strangely though, Malfoy had decided the same thing because the pair of them got up at the same moment, and Professor Trelawney shrieked loudly.

"My dears! Which of you left his seat first? Which?"

"I..." said Harry, looking down uneasily at Neville.

"I doubt it will make much difference," said Professor McGonagall, coldly, "unless a mad axe-man is waiting outside the doors to slaughter the first into the Entrance Hall."

Even Malfoy let out a laugh at that. Harry frowned at him, while Professor Trelawney looked highly affronted and crossed.

"You're going already?" Neville whispered to Harry.

"I just...need a minute," Harry mumbled, giving Malfoy a look before exiting the Great Hall.

He stood in the Entrance Hall for several minutes, just thinking. Then, Malfoy finally appeared, followed closely by Hermione, and seconds later, Neville joined them.

"Do _you_ know where he is?" were the first words out of Malfoy.

Harry shook his head.

"Guys, Professor Dumbledore probably just has some important headmaster business to attend to," said Hermione.

"Not _him, Sirius!"_ said Malfoy.

"I'm sure he's fine," said Neville, calmly. "We shouldn't get ahead of ourselves tonight. Just find him tomorrow and ask him where he was."

Harry nodded, but Malfoy didn't look convinced.

"...no I think I'll stay a while," Hermione finished. Neville shrugged and turned for the stairs, but when Harry didn't follow him, he put his hand on his shoulder.

"I'm right behind you," Harry lied.

When Neville had finally gone, Harry turned to Malfoy. "Could you give us a sec?"

Malfoy raised his eyebrows, but not as far as Hermione did.

 _"Us?"_ she said.

"Yeah, _us_ ," said Harry. "I need to talk to you."

"Uh...okay..." said Malfoy, frowning but not moving very far.

Harry lowered his voice to that of a whisper.

"I got your gift."

"Did you like it?" said Hermione.

"Well...I mean, yeah I did, but what's it all about?"

Hermione frowned, clearly not understanding why they were whispering. "Well you see, it's this thing that cleans your broom. I'd have thought a Quidditch player would recognise such a device."

"I'm not talking about the kit, I'm talking about you giving me an expensive gift," Harry hissed. "I mean we're not even really friends."

"We're not?"

"Well..." Harry glanced over at Malfoy who was hanging about near the entrance to the dungeons. "I don't know...I don't _think_ so..."

 _"I_ think so," Hermione argued. Harry looked at her and she sighed. "Look, you saved me…twice now. We're connected through the people we're around...we're in the same house...I don't see why it's so weird. I guess I got you the gift because I never properly thanked you for all of last year."

"You know, I really don't wanna be reminded of it," Harry answered.

Hermione laughed.

"So I take it my mum's told you about...well about..."

"About her wanting me to tutor you," said Hermione, still smiling. "Yeah, she wrote to me a few days ago."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that," said Harry, quickly. "It's not usually like my mom to interfere in my life like this."

"No, don't be. I think it was actually rather sweet."

"Y-you do?"

"Yeah, she obviously cares a lot about your education," said Hermione. She glanced over at Malfoy. "Well I'm gonna go but we'll start sessions after the holidays."

"Kay," said Harry, watching her move across the hall to where Malfoy was leaning against a wall. He gave Harry a strange look over Hermione's shoulder and together they descended into the dungeons.

Harry sighed again and began to climb the stone steps to Gryffindor Tower, thinking that at least Ginny didn't go all out on his Christmas gift...in fact, she hadn't even gotten him one.

Ever since the news of Harry and Lavender getting together spread throughout the castle, Ginny had lost her voice. She was still showing up to Quidditch and hanging out with her friends and talking with Hermione and doing all the things she usually did, except now, all of those things excluded Harry. Whenever he complimented her on her flying, she just smiled vaguely and that was it, whereas before, she'd giggle or say something clever that made Harry think for hours about how she could possibly be related to her brothers.

Having her off his shoulder was definitely a relief. But yet for some reason, Harry felt a little angry about how she was ignoring him. What did he ever do to her to receive this silent treatment?

"What's up with you?" Neville asked when Harry finally met up with him in the dormitory.

"Girls are weird," Harry mumbled.

Neville didn't seem up to discussing it tonight because he fell asleep fairly quickly. Maybe it was because of the hefty feast. Either way, Harry was wide awake and worrying. He waited until Neville was surely asleep before creeping out of bed and slowly pulling a coat and scarf on. He picked up his wand, then changed his mind and put it back on the bedside table. Once he was finally out of the common room, he could hear eerie caroling from a couple corridors over. Nearly Headless Nick must have started a choir because they'd never done that before.

Harry found himself out in the courtyard in the cool evening air, slowly making his way through the freshly-fallen, untouched snow. He knew the risks of being out here at night—the dementors could sense his presence and attempt to suck out his soul, or even worse, Pettigrew could try to show up again. But somehow, Harry hoped it would be the latter. He hadn't told anybody this—even Neville—but he felt angry. Betrayed. Pretty much everything his parents should have been feeling now but for some reason weren't.

And then, somewhere between the falling snow and the sparkling decorations, it hit him.

Was there more to the story than Dumbledore had led on?

The next day, Harry woke bright and early to go and bang on Sirius' door. Naturally, it worked. Sirius cracked it open, eyes squinting and hair standing up. He was wearing a pair of pajamas that only Harry's mother could have knitted for him, and Harry was now beginning to wonder just when Sirius had the time to go exchange presents since this was definitely a new pair.

"Harry?" he said, sleepily, eyes still squinting. "What are you...?"

Harry pushed past Sirius and waited until his Godfather shut the door.

"Where were you last night?" Harry demanded.

"What do you mean?" said Sirius, still sleepily.

"Well you weren't at the feast," Harry observed. "And neither was Dumbledore. Where were you guys?"

"Dumbledore wasn't at the feast?" said Sirius.

Harry stared at him.

"How long are you gonna keep doing this?"

"Keep doing what?"

"Answering every question with another question!" Harry bellowed.

It was then that Sirius finally woke up. His eyes went round, as though he'd been jinxed from the back or something, and he was suddenly fully alert.

"Sorry Harry, it's been a long night," he said. "Up until five seconds ago, I was sure I was still in bed."

Harry sighed. "So where were you then?"

But the answer he got from Sirius was not one he'd expected...and it only made him feel worse.

"Hogsmeade," said Sirius.

Harry's mouth fell slightly open at the answer. "W-what were you..."

"A couple of buddies of mine from the team apparated over for some drinks and...well you know me...drink after drink...I was barely able to haul my drunk arse back over here without any students seeing me."

Sirius laughed it off and then sunk into an armchair at the corner of his office and sighed deeply.

"And Dumbledore?" said Harry, softly.

Sirius met his eyes. "Ah, Dumbledore had to visit the Minister last night for some very important business. I'd have thought he'd have made it back in time for the feast, but guess not..."

"What business could they possibly have on _Christmas?"_

Sirius shrugged. "Who knows?"

Harry tilted his head at him.

"What?" said Sirius.

"Dumbledore's never missed the feast before. NEVER."

But Sirius only smiled.

"Harry, there's a first for everything. And why are you so upset? Did you not like the books I got you? Was it too Remus of me?"

Harry forced a grin. "Yeah. Totally."

Sirius grinned back.

"Well, I'm gonna go wake Nev up. Er, breakfast, you know..."

Sirius nodded but did not stand up. Harry moved across the office and opened the door. Then he paused, added "Nice jammies, by the way," and left without looking at Sirius.

The entire way back to the common room, he thought of only one thing. Sirius was with his parents last night...and Dumbledore too probably. And the only way that Dumbledore would miss the feast was if it was something really bad. And really important. And the only thing Harry could think of that would be important enough was definitely something Pettigrew-related.

Either that or Sirius was having an affair with his mother. Even the thought of that made Harry laugh out loud.

When he finally got back to the common room, he found Neville by the fireplace, reading a book Lily had gotten him. Neville looked up as soon as Harry arrived and slowly shut the book in his lap once he noticed the look on his friend's face.

"So did you see him?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Harry, taking a seat on the couch across from him. "I saw him."

"Did you ask him where he was? Where Dumbledore was? What they were doing if they were together?"

Harry only nodded, eyes on the fireplace.

"And?" said Neville, anxiously.

Harry finally turned to look at him.

"H-he lied to me," he said.

* * *

 _Draco_

* * *

"No," said Draco.

"But you'll regret it if you don't!"

"I don't care."

"But your mother probably won't be happy—"

"Crabbe, Goyle, shut up," Draco concluded.

The boys fell silent at once.

It was Sunday night—also known as Draco's last night in the hospital. Potter had been released that morning, but Madame Pomfrey had insisted that Draco stay another night. So, his friends had taken it upon themselves to skip dinner in the Great Hall and eat with him instead. And this was actually nice, considering that tomorrow everyone would be on the train back to King's Cross so they could spend Christmas with their families.

Well in Draco's opinion, Christmas was highly overrated.

"But I don't reckon anyone else is stayin' for the holidays," Avery went on. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I've already decided," Draco said, restlessly.

There was no way in hell that he was going home for the holidays…not after that little stunt his mother had pulled in front of everyone.

"You know you can't hide forever, mate," said Theo. Draco looked up at him. "You're gonna have to go back sometime."

"Yeah, like this summer, when school's closed and you have no choice but to go home," Blaise pointed out.

"I'll worry about that when we get there," said Draco, calmly. "Guys, I'm not in the mood to discuss it now."

The boys nodded.

"Well are you sure you don't want us to—?"

"Positive," Draco told Crabbe, smiling slightly. "You guys go on home. I'll be fine." He paused. "It might actually be nice to be in the castle with almost zero people around."

"If you say so," sighed Avery.

And the next day, when Draco watched from a window up on the third floor as his friends and housemates battled their way up the snowy path leading to Hogsmeade with all their things, he realized just how right Avery had been. No one else in his house had chosen to stay behind at the school. He'd made all his friends go, and Regina and Pansy too (he needed a break from all the research on hippogriff slaughtering). He knew that Potter and Longbottom had chosen to stay for whatever reason, but other than them and a few other people from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, that was it. He, Draco, now had the whole Slytherin common room to himself.

Feeling mischievous, he casually made his way back to the dungeons and let himself into the still and silent common room. He stood on one leg at the center of the room and looked around. The only sounds were that of the fire cackling in the back, the ticking of the grandfather clock in the far left corner, and the whirling of some weird snow globe that someone had left behind on a desk table. Draco picked it up and shook it lightly, then set it back down and tossed his crutches to the carpet before collapsing on the couch comfortably.

Madame Pomfrey had promised him that his ankle would heal soon enough, so he didn't expect to be stuck in the castle all day long for the entire break. He hoped to soon get outside and enjoy the snow a little bit. It felt like it had been ages since he'd been out. Potter had of course been released from the hospital wing sooner than he, given his lack of injuries and such. But Malfoy honestly didn't mind being there alone. At least he didn't have to face anybody after what his mother had done.

And his friends knew better than to mention it.

Then, Draco remembered Crabbe and Goyle's secret stash of chocolate frogs. He hurried over to the window ledge as fast as he could hopping on one leg, and moved the pillows aside so he could open the box underneath. There lay the most scrumptious pile of sweets he'd ever seen. Feeling reasonably happy, he collected as much as he could in his two hands and hopped his way back to the couch. And hearing no sounds whatsoever—no footsteps and no nothing—was the most peaceful thing he'd had in a long while.

Sure, it hadn't exactly been his year so far...but at least he and Potter weren't fighting anymore...

...sort of...

They seemed to have reached a silent understanding which was good enough at least. And having Sirius at school had been both amazing and torturous. Snape wasn't a very good sport about it, but ever since the incident with Narcissa in the hospital wing, Snape had actually been pretty absent, no surprise there. Draco sighed, doubting he'd ever actually have a chance at a normal family.

He was just through the fourth chapter of his book (and on the 8th chocolate frog) when he heard it...loud, irritating banging on the common room door and a usually-soft voice shrieking from the other side, "OPEN UP, DRACO! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!"

"Oh no," he muttered, getting up as quickly as he could and rushing to open the door.

Yep, there she was indeed. Hermione stared at him, eyes round with fury—or was it confusion?

"What are you doing here?" they both said at once, and Hermione's expression only got angrier.

"I'm sorry, wasn't there any doubt in your head that I would be going home for the holidays?"

"But I had no idea!" she squeaked, pushing past him and into the common room.

"But won't you come in," Draco sighed, letting the door shut after her.

He could feel the portraits up on the walls glaring down at him with fury. Well, at least Hermione had had the decency to dress in muggle clothes before showing up here.

"...and I mean, look..." she said, turning on her heel to look at him, "Don't you just find it a little strange that you didn't tell me, _your best friend_ , that you'd be staying?"

"Well right back at you!" said Draco. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"My parents are going to France so I've decided to stay," Hermione said, simply. "And I would've told you, only every time I tried to visit, your friends were there."

"So?"

"So they don't like me very much," she said," ...clearly."

"Oh come on, that's not true," said Draco, taking a seat on the couch again.

Hermione frowned suddenly and turned around.

"What?" said Draco.

"This..." she said, turning her head back and glancing up at the snake-like mural up on the ceiling which stretched down to the edges of the walls. Her eyes wandered from the green fireplace to the carpeted floors to the stone-cold stairs leading up to the dormitories at the back of the large room. "This is...different."

"You mean from your gold and red cushion chairs and completely circular dimensions?" laughed Draco. "Yeah, I'd say it's different. At least our common room looks like how a normal room should. I can't imagine always having to hang out in a _circular_ room. It goes against all conventional forms of architecture."

Hermione frowned again and Draco grinned.

"Look at what being friends with you has done to my vocabulary," he added.

But Hermione was still frowning.

"What is it now?" Draco sighed.

"When were you ever in the Gryffindor common room?" Hermione demanded.

Finally, Draco's smirk left his face and he looked up at her. Crap.

"I..." he began, fighting through his mind for an excuse—any excuse—that would convince this completely logical girl. "Well I...you know, that time when..."

"I can't believe you!" Hermione suddenly shrieked, and just as soon, Draco was on his feet again, stopping her from leaving the common room. "SO WHAT, DID YOU SNEAK YOUR WAY IN? YOU HAVE AN INVISIBLITY CLOAK OR SOMETHING?"

"No—"

"AN INVISIBILITY POTION OF SOME SORT THAT I'VE NEVER HEARD OF THEN!"

"Not exactly—"

"WELL UNLESS YOU TRANSFIGURED YOURSELF INTO SOME ANIMAL TO POSE AS SOMEONE'S PET...OR BETTER YET, YOU TOOK BLOODY POTION TO MAKE YOURSELF _ANOTHER_ STUDENT, I CAN'T SEE HOW YOU WOULD'VE GOTTEN IN…"

Her voice trailed off and her eyes widened before Draco. He said nothing.

"Oh my God, you did, didn't you?!" she cried. "YOU STOLE POLYJUICE POTION! YOU—"

 _"Will you keep your voice down?!"_ he hissed at her. "In case you haven't noticed, these walls are covered with portraits that can talk."

"Portraits that aren't too pleased about this _girl_ intruding in on _our_ common room!" shrieked a witch on one the walls, who had a pointed hat on top of her head and a smug look on her face.

"Okay, okay, we're going!" Draco promised, and he pushed Hermione along with him until they were out of the common room and in the main corridor of the dungeons.

"It was last year and I only did it to protect you, okay?" he began, his voice calmer now.

"What are you—?"

"I did what I had to do because I had my suspicions about Potter and I was sure he was the one after you."

"Are you—?"

"Serious? Yeah, I am, but you know what, I did it to protect you so you're welcome."

Hermione stared at him.

"It's not like we hurt anybody…"

" _We?"_ said Hermione.

Crap.

"Who's 'we'? One of your pals helped you perform this highly illegal operation?"

"Blaise..." Draco muttered. "And anyway, we didn't bother anyone so it's all good."

He leaned against the wall and looked at her in the darkness. She folded her arms and looked away.

"Come on," he said. "Lighten up! Haven't you ever gotten tired of living life predictably all the time?"

"Predictably?" Hermione scoffed. "What part of Hagrid being sued for Buckbeak sounds predictable to you? What part of me breaking my arm or my leg or any other—"

 _"Okay_ ," Draco cut off. " _Alright._ I hear you."

Hermione sighed.

"Jeez, why is it that every time we talk, we end up fighting?"

"That's not true," Hermione said at once.

Draco shrugged slightly. "And besides, you're gonna be spending a lot of time in my common room this break so what's the big deal? It's all the same rule breaking."

"Well that's different," Hermione said, immediately.

"How exactly?"

"That's during the break so it doesn't _really_ count. No one's here. It's not rule-breaking _per say..._ more like bending the law instead."

"Whatever you wanna call it," sighed Draco, now leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes. "Do you hear that?"

"What?" said Hermione.

"Nothing," said Draco, eyes still closed. "It's silent. Isn't that so nice?"

"Yeah," said Hermione, softly. "Yeah, it kind of is. Like...the castle is so calm and peaceful now."

"It's ours entirely," Draco added, opening his eyes now.

Hermione gave him a smile.

The next day, she met him in the Great Hall bright and early and they finally did something they hadn't been able to do in a long while—they sat together. Seeing as how so few students had chosen to stay for the holidays, the teachers had gotten rid of the four house tables overnight and replaced them with a large round table at the center of the hall. They'd even surrounded the table with bright and sparkling Christmas trees to add to the festivities. Draco had to admit even to himself that the trees combined with the red and green bows all along the walls and the snow falling from the ceiling made him feel kind of warm inside. Draco didn't even mind that Potter and Longbottom were there with them.

After breakfast, Hermione insisted on a walk about the grounds, and even though Draco's ankle was still healing, a walk sounded really nice. So they returned to their common rooms and met up in the Great Hall a half hour later, all bundled up and ready to go. With Hermione's help, Draco managed to get through the heavy snow and all the way to the courtyard on one foot. They took a seat on the bench just near the big tree that Hagrid had set up earlier that month, and together, they just sat there for a good two hours and talked. And when they were finished talking about one thing, they immediately found another thing to discuss. It was amazing. Draco was sure they hadn't done this since probably that first summer before school. Too many things had gotten in the way since and while they may have talked and hung out a couple of times, it was never like this.

"So how come Potter and Longbottom stayed?" Draco finally asked.

It wasn't that he was curious or anything...but it was rather odd, given that Potter was practically worshipped by his family.

"Harry's parents are renovating the house and Neville usually goes to their house for Christmas so they just asked them to stay at Hogwarts this time so that they wouldn't bother with the renovations," Hermione explained.

"Why does Longbottom—"

 _"Neville_ —"

"—go to the Potters' for the holidays?" said Draco. "Why doesn't he just go home?"

"It _is_ his home."

"Wait I don't get it."

Hermione hesitated. "Well Neville's parents don't live with him. His grandmother takes care of him."

"Are they dead?"

"No," said Hermione, quickly. Draco raised his eyebrows. "They're just...they're in special care at St. Mungo's."

"Whoa, what for?"

"I don't know for sure."

Draco hadn't known this about toad boy.

"And so how do the Potters connect to this?"

"Well they're his godparents, you see."

"Ah so the two of them are like brothers basically."

"Sort of, yeah," said Hermione. "I-it's a really complicated history."

Draco only nodded, while silently wondering how Weaslebee felt about all of this. He was no doubt jealous of Potter's connection with toad boy…kind of like how Hermione was with basically all of Draco's friends. Draco suddenly turned to look at her.

"What?" she said, noticing.

"Avery," he blurted out.

Hermione reddened slightly.

"What about him?"

"And Blaise," said Draco. Now, Hermione frowned. "And Crabbe. And Goyle. And Theo and Pansy and Regina and Marcus Flint."

"What about them?" said Hermione, impatiently.

Draco smiled. "You know you're no match for them, right?"

Hermione let out a breath and turned to look back at the snow. "I know."

"You do?" said Draco, eyebrows raised.

"Of course," said Hermione. "You couldn't survive without me even if you wanted to."

"Oh is that right?"

"It is," Hermione nodded. "I'm a major part of your life and you know you can't deny it."

"Well someone's grown cocky over the last few months."

"Oh whatever, you know it's the truth."

Draco let out a laugh and put his arm around Hermione so as to keep them warm from the chilly wind that came in from the south now. They didn't stay in the courtyard for long because it started to get really cold. Back in the castle, Draco got out a deck of cards and he and Hermione played in the Great Hall right until lunch. Then after lunch, it was Wizard's Chess and then another walk outside. Finally, at bedtime, Hermione helped Draco to his common room and he passed out on the couch, feeling happier than he'd felt probably in a long time.

The next day, they did all the same things as the day before and the day after that and the day after _that._ And dinnertime in the Great Hall with the teachers wasn't actually all that awkward, given that Sirius was there to cool things down. It was actually pretty nice. The only times Draco had to worry about finding something to do were lunchtimes when Hermione insisted on going over to Hagrid's to "take care of important business". Draco didn't bother asking what because he knew exactly what they were up to and he really didn't want to have that fight with Hermione. Not during the holidays.

So he resorted to staring out the window of his dormitory or roaming around the castle some more to exercise his leg. It was really starting to heal. Hermione had been right. Using his leg more instead of sitting around waiting for it to heal like Madame Pomfrey had suggested really did sound like the better idea. Who would've thought?

As Christmas drew nearer and Draco and Hermione had more and more fun each day, he couldn't help but stare at her sometimes and resist the urge to blurt out, "What's been up with you lately?" She'd been acting weird all year, from getting sick all the time (or _faking it)_ to getting all cozy with Avery and then Blaise and then Potter and Longbottom...it wasn't like Hermione to be this...direct with people. Or was Draco just imagining it all?

"So you and Avery..." he said one morning to test her.

She reddened instantly and looked away from him.

Ha. Just as he'd suspected.

"...are the weirdest people I've ever met!"

Hermione breathed.

"Hey, you're not so normal yourself there, mate," she told him.

Draco smiled weakly, but was still not content with her answer or with the way she was handling the situation.

"Look, I saw you guys at the hospital wing," he finally said. Hermione looked up, eyes slightly worried.

"Y-you did?"

"I saw him put his hand on your shoulder and it might have looked like something it wasn't but I'm telling you how it looked. Wrong. That's how it looked."

"W-wrong?"

"And I'm not just saying that because I disapprove—I totally do—but I'm saying that to be truthful. You don't wanna get caught up in a Gryffindor/Slytherin mess, Hermione. Trust me."

"I..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know what you're gonna say. 'Draco, you're crazy!' 'Draco, the thought hasn't even occurred to me!' 'Draco, how could you even _think_?!' But you know what, I'd feel so much better if you'd just say it so go on with it."

Hermione stared at him.

"Come on, I won't even argue, just tell me I'm crazy and we'll move off from the subject altogether."

"Draco..."

"Look, you don't even have to say it like how I said. Just say 'you're right' and I'll never mention it again."

"Draco..."

"Why can't you just say it, dammit? What's the problem?"

He finally looked at her and Hermione opened her mouth slightly but no words came out.

Oh no. Was she gonna...?...did she actually...?

"You're right," she said, smiling weakly.

Draco breathed.

"Good. Man, it took you long enough to say it."

"Yeah."

Good then. So now that all that was cleared up, Draco could finally go on with his life without any worries from that department. He couldn't even imagine the awkwardness if Hermione and Avery started going out. He was sure he'd flip out, and not because _he_ wanted Hermione. That was not what this was about. It was because _no one_ deserved her. _Especially_ not a bloke like Avery. And she needed to know that.

The next day, when Hermione went on her usual trip to Hagrid's, Draco decided to make a trip down to the Trophy Room. He hadn't done that in a while and he was starting to wonder if it still looked the same. To say that he was surprised to see Snape standing there once he finally arrived was definitely an understatement. And Snape looked just as equally surprised to see him there.

"Hey Sev," Draco said, softly, letting the door shut behind him.

"Hi Draco," said Snape. "How are you feeling? How's that ankle of yours doing?"

"Fine," Draco mumbled, remaining at the door. "W-what are you doing here?"

"I was just looking around..." Snape said, turning back to examine a silver trophy on a dusty old shelf. Draco joined Snape's side and examined the award. It read:

 _Medal for Special Services to the School_

 _Awarded to one Thomas Marvolo Riddle_

 _1942_

"What..." said Draco, but Snape only shook his head.

"So, have you spoken to your mother since—?"

"No, I haven't," Draco said at once.

Snape nodded again.

"That's understandable, I suppose."

"Glad you agree," Draco muttered, turning away from him. It was surprising, really, that Snape was even talking to him. He wasn't an idiot of course. He knew that he felt guilty for how Narcissa had acted and so he was trying to make up for it now. Draco wondered if Snape had actually said anything to her that day, after she'd administered the hateful slap to her own son in front of his friends, teachers and archenemies.

"Do you reckon Pettigrew is somewhere out there now?" Draco blurted out, his eyes still on the trophy.

"I really don't know," Snape answered after a moment's silence.

Draco gulped nervously. That wasn't a comforting answer.

"But I do know," said Snape, suddenly turning to look at Draco, "that if he is, those dementors out there will dig their own graves and then crawl into them before they'll let anyone else get their hands on him."

Draco let out a weak smile.

"He's a dead man if he goes anywhere near the castle," Snape added momentarily.

Draco sighed. Clearly Snape didn't know anything about Pettigrew's recent break-in to the castle. Now that he thought about it, Draco doubted any of the other teachers besides Dumbledore knew. And perhaps McGonagall too.

On Christmas morning, Draco awoke to a large pile of presents at the foot of his bed. He smiled down at them and then flicked his wand to levitate them together in the air. He then proceeded down the stairs in his pajamas, his hair still ruffled and standing in all angles. He settled the presents on the nearest table and slowly made his way over to the common room door. When he opened it, he found a smiling Hermione standing before him, her own pile of presents levitated just behind her.

"Merry Christmas!" she exclaimed, running into his arms.

Draco yawned into her bushy hair. "You too."

Hermione pushed past him, the pile of presents following after her, and settled herself on the couch. Draco shut the door and followed.

"Come on, let's open them!" she squeaked.

"You first," Draco sighed, still thinking of his dream where he and Pansy were the ones sitting in the snowy courtyard. Why the hell was he having all these weird dreams all the time?

Hermione excitedly reached for a gold-wrapped package and began to tear it open. A book. _Obviously._

When they were finally done opening presents, Draco had come to three conclusions. A) Hermione always knew which book to get him and it still amazed him how well she knew him. B) He was really, really, really, _really_ lucky to have amazing friends in Slytherin. And C) Sirius was the coolest man alive.

Draco looked for Sirius at breakfast time to thank him but not all of the teachers had come together. He tried Sirius' office afterwards but he was either still asleep or off somewhere doing something important. Or illegal. Or both. So Draco resorted to waiting until evening, for the Christmas Feast, where he could thank Sirius properly. Because never, in a million dreams, would he have ever thought that he'd be the proud owner of a Firebolt. _A bloody firebolt!_

Now, the Slytherins would surely win the Quidditch Cup, whether Draco's ankle healed in time for the next match or not. It didn't even matter that they never got their rematch. The Slytherins were headed for that cup for sure. There was no question of it.

But funny how sometimes things just turned out not how expected...

Draco and Hermione entered the Great Hall in time for the big Christmas Feast, only to find that two very important people were missing from that big round table...Sirius and _Dumbledore_.

Without even thinking about it, Draco looked round at Potter and gave him a questioning look which the boy reciprocated at once. Well, thought Draco, at least _he_ didn't know something Draco didn't. At least they could both be clueless for once.

Unfortunately though, the two main figures' absences made for a rather dismal Christmas Feast, because Draco tuned out most of everything that was happening. He barely even ate, but only Hermione seemed to notice. And Snape of course. He was sitting just at Draco's side and kept shooting him worried looks. Draco was sure the other teachers would start to suspect Snape of becoming a softie or something. McGonagall didn't seem too concerned with Dumbledore's absence however, so at least there was that.

Oh and that Trelawney hag...she was acting _really_ weird. She started rambling something about how 13 can't dine together and how it's bad luck and everything. And then when the feast was nearly over and Draco and Potter stood up at the same time, Trelawney let out a shriek and cried, "Which of you dear boys got up first? Which?!"

Draco had to fight the urge to yell, "CALM YOURSELF, WOMAN!" But he really, really, _really_ wanted to.

But it seemed that Professor McGonagall had decided to take matters into her own hands.

"I doubt it will make much difference," she told the poor professor, coldly, "unless a mad axe-man is waiting outside the doors to slaughter the first into the Entrance Hall."

Draco let out a laugh before he could stop himself, while Professor Trelawney looked highly affronted and crossed.

Potter whispered something to Longbottom and then proceeded out of the Great Hall. Without hesitation, Draco followed, with Hermione just behind him. Once in the Entrance Hall, they turned to look at Potter, who was waiting there for them.

"Do _you_ know where he is?" were the first words out of Draco, even though he already knew the answer from the look on Potter's face.

Still though, he had to hear it to believe it.

Potter shook his head.

"Guys, Professor Dumbledore probably just has some important headmaster business to attend to," Hermione offered.

"Not _him, Sirius!"_ said Draco. "You dork," he added quietly to her.

"Oh," she mouthed.

"I'm sure he's fine," said Longbottom, who'd now joined them three. His voice was the calmest out of all of them. "We shouldn't get ahead of ourselves tonight. Just find him tomorrow and ask him where he was."

Draco wasn't convinced. He had to find him tonight. He had to know what the hell was up. It wasn't like Sirius to disappear like this without saying anything to anybody.

And the Dumbledore thing…that was weird too.

"...no I think I'll stay a while," Hermione finished telling Longbottom. Toad boy shrugged and turned for the stairs, but his pal Potter didn't follow him.

When his friend finally left, Potter turned to Draco. "Could you give us a sec?"

Draco raised his eyebrows, but clearly not as far as Hermione did.

 _"Us?"_ she said.

"Yeah, _us,"_ said Potter. "I need to talk to you."

"Uh...okay..." said Draco, frowning but not moving very far so that he could at least eavesdrop on _some_ of the conversation Potter so desperately needed to keep private.

What a git.

Unfortunately for Draco, he couldn't overhear anything because of how hard his heart was pounding against his chest. He knew it was silly to worry about Sirius but he couldn't help it. Finally giving up on any chance of hearing what Potter was saying, Draco moved to stand near the entrance to the dungeons and leaned against the wall, his hands slipping into his pockets and his eyes shutting slightly in attempt to calm himself down. And before long, Hermione was tapping him on the shoulder and the two of them were alone in the corridor again.

"What did he want?" were the first words out of Draco's mouth, but Hermione only smiled.

She led the way to the dungeons (she'd gotten to know them fairly well over the break) and waited as Draco uttered the password and let them both into the common room. They then settled down on the carpet by the fireplace and cracked open Blaise's Wizard's Chess set which he'd left behind.

"So...his mother wants you to _tutor_ him?" Draco concluded once Hermione had finished talking.

"Pretty much," she said, moving a pawn to the side and sighing deeply. "She's actually a really nice lady, from what I saw when I met her."

"Yeah but..." said Draco, who couldn't understand it. "Potter has a girlfriend for all that, why _you?"_

"Hey," said Hermione, looking up at him. "A girlfriend and a tutor mate are _not_ the same thing."

"Well then clearly you and I need to have 'the talk' again, because I have news for you, Granger. _Yeah, they are."_

 _"No, they're not!"_

 _"Yeah, they are!"_

And just like that, Hermione tackled Draco, letting the chess pieces fall to the side and complain noisily while the two friends tickled each other practically to death. When they were tired of playing, they settled down on the couch to catch their breaths and Hermione wiped tears from her face.

"That was fun," she breathed, turning her head slowly to look at Draco. "We haven't hung out like that in a long time."

"Yeah," Draco agreed. "Feels like it's been years."

"More like several lifetimes," Hermione added. She then frowned. "Why is it that no matter how much time passes between intense hangout sessions, each one is stronger than the last?"

"How do you mean?"

"Well...it's just always so easy to get back to that place…no matter what happened beforehand..."

Draco thought about it for a minute and then took Hermione's hand. "I guess that's how you know that it's real."

Hermione looked at him.

"It should all be easy," he sighed, letting his eyes close slightly.

Right now, being here, he was really happy. It didn't matter how much he would have to worry about tomorrow. He was content.

"Merry Christmas, Draco," Hermione suddenly whispered.

Without opening his eyes, Draco whispered "Merry Christmas, Hermione," and then let himself drift off to that beautiful land he wished he could live in.

Hermione gently squeezed his hand.

* * *

 **Let me know what you guys think will go down with Pettigrew! You know it's coming...**

 **Also, he's not gonna be the version of Pettigrew that we know from canon. That was low-self-esteemed, betrayed-everyone-so-everyone-hates-him, cowardly Pettigrew. But THIS is going to be post-Azkaban Pettigrew. Think... Azkaban-Sirius-combined-with-Bellatrix-combined-with-Crouch Pettigrew.**

 **P.S there was some strange technical difficulty when i tried uploading the chapter...dunno what happened...sorry about that, people**


	27. Year 3: Skeletons

**AN : Hope you guys enjoy this _reaaaaallllly_ long one. **

**Also, a couple of reviews would really help me keep faith that some of you are still reading and following the story! Just saying...**

 **Disclaimer : Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks**

* * *

CHAPTER 27: YEAR 3—SKELETONS

* * *

 _Harry_

* * *

When the Hogwarts Express finally pulled up to Hogsmeade Station, Harry and Neville pulled the invisibility cloak over themselves and stayed near the tree so that nobody would bump into them. They watched their classmates get off the train with their trunks and bags and fill the station with stories of their Christmas adventures over the break. It wasn't long before a family of redheaded people was getting off the train too. Harry could already spot Ron in the crowd, holding a large bag and walking with Pigwidgeon on his shoulder. Ginny was walking alongside him too, though she didn't look very energetic or as pleased as everyone else.

"Ow," Neville muttered in Harry's ear as they shifted in the bushes.

"Sorry," Harry whispered back, his eyes on Ron walking just behind Fred and George, both of whom were howling about something hilarious now.

"It's looking pretty gloomy up there," Neville said, his eyes on the clouds above, which were packing heavy and blindly white.

"We've gotta isolate Ron from the others," Harry replied.

"Yeah, but how?" Neville whispered back. "Harry, maybe this isn't such a good idea."

"Just come on!" Harry whispered, pulling him with him through the bushes. They tiptoed along the side with their classmates, being extra careful not to bump into anybody. Finally, just as the students started heading for the path to the castle, Ron bent down to tie his shoelaces.

"Opportunity knocks," Harry told Neville, and together, they hurried to Ron's side.

"Ron!" Harry hissed.

Ron fell backwards and looked around.

"What the...?"

"Relax, it's only us!" said Harry's voice again.

"Wha...blimey Harry, you gave me a right scare there, mate—"

"Shhhhh!"

Ron stood back up on his feet and adjusted his bag on his shoulder. Pigwidgeon had apparently decided that he'd had enough of Ron for one day, and flew off in the other direction without a second thought. Ron sighed and turned back to where he thought Harry was standing.

"What are you doing out here? And why are you wearing your cloak?"

"We need to talk," Harry whispered.

"But—"

"Ron, it's important."

"Okay, but—"

"Just pretend to tie your shoelaces..."

"But I already—"

"And then slowly start to walk backwards..."

"Harry, I—"

"And we'll meet at the Three Broomsticks in ten minutes."

Ron looked around the crowd passing by him and gave in by nodding his head.

Satisfied, Harry and Neville made for the pub at the end of the village without a glance back. When they finally got there, they secured a booth table at the back and Harry pulled the cloak off of himself.

"Nev, Ron's gonna be here any minute," he told his friend.

"I don't care," Neville replied from beneath the cloak. "I can't risk getting caught here by a teacher. I'm too young to die."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You're dramatic is what you are."

But he never heard Neville's comeback because the door to the pub opened again, sending in a fresh wave of snow. Ron shook his head to sprinkle some of it off his hair and looked around. He soon spotted Harry and made his way over to the booth.

"Snowing?" Harry said as Ron sat down.

"It's _mad_ outside," Ron replied. "So what was so important that you had to talk to me about it here instead of the _warm_ common room?"

"It's about Sirius," Harry began.

And then he told Ron everything, right up to the morning after Christmas when Harry had gone to confront Sirius and Sirius had lied to his face.

"Whoa," said Ron once Harry was all done. "That's insane, mate."

"Yeah," said Harry, leaning back in his seat and frowning down at his drink. "See, I wouldn't really be this curious if it had just been Sirius...but the fact that _Dumbledore_ was missing from the feast too, is what _really_ ticks me off."

"Well yeah, that too, but I mean why does your mother want Hermione to _tutor_ you?" said Ron.

Harry stared at him. _"That's_ the part of this story that you caught?! What about...what about all the other important stuff that came after that?"

"What?" said Ron, who'd looked momentarily distracted.

"DUMBLEDORE!" Harry bellowed, attracting a few eyes.

"Drop it, Harry," said Neville from his side.

Ron dropped his drink.

"Ron!" Harry hissed, looking around quickly at all the people now staring at him and Ron.

 _"How long have you been sitting there, Neville?!"_ Ron hissed.

Neville must've gotten his wand out because Harry heard a faint ' _reparo'_ and the butterbeer glass shards quickly came together into a perfect form right back on the booth table.

"Sorry, I should've told you he was here," Harry told Ron once people turned away from them.

Ron proceeded to wipe the drink from his shirt, while Neville remained under the invisibility cloak, even after Harry tried to tug it off of him.

"Look, why don't you just go confront Sirius?" Ron finally said.

"Uh, I already did, weren't you listening to the story?"

"No, I mean _actually_ confront him. Tell him you know he lied. Tell it straight to his face, he won't be able to lie to you then."

"Or _maybe_ you could just do what he wants you to do and leave it alone," Neville suggested.

"Yeah, yeah, you're not helping here, Nev," said Harry, who didn't have the slightest intention of leaving this alone.

Either Sirius and Dumbledore were up to something real juicy and Pettigrew-related, or Dumbledore was actually with the minister on Christmas and Sirius was...well...with Harry's mum...

Now that Harry thought about it, he wasn't sure which would be worse...

Sirius and his mum... _definitely_ Sirius and his mum...

But Sirius wouldn't do that, would he? Not to his best friend...and not to his _godson..._

The boys got back to the castle together under the cloak just over an hour after the train had arrived at Hogsmeade, so no one seemed to have noticed their absence. People everywhere were too busy exchanging stories of what they got for Christmas and where they went and what they saw. Fred and George had apparently received quite a load of money from some aunt up in Norway, and had already decided what to spend it on. Their fizzing fireworks were already shooting all over the common room, entertaining some and annoying the rest.

Harry spotted Ginny out of the corner of his eye, sitting by herself near the back and admiring the snow storm outside. He automatically made for the couch on the other side when his path was suddenly blocked by a figure that launched itself at him, burying his face in bushy blonde hair.

"You're back!" Lavender shrieked in his ear.

Harry patted her on the back awkwardly and waited for her to release her arms from his neck.

"I never went anywhere," he stammered once she finally did.

"Oh that's right, that was me," she said, excitedly. "So, how was your break? What did you get for Christmas? Did you like my gift? Tell me everything!"

Harry opened his mouth to speak but then stopped himself just as quickly. Ron was sitting on the couch just next to him and watching him expectedly, a wide grin on his face. Dean and Seamus were not far from him.

"Uh, let's chat outside," Harry said quickly, and he ushered Lavender out of the room and away from prying eyes and ears.

They ended up on the spiraling grand stairs of the tower and took their seats just near one of the windows where they could watch the snow fall.

"So," said Lavender, turning Harry's attention back to her. "What did you wanna 'chat' about?"

Harry shrugged. "Uh... tell me about what you did on your break."

"Well," she said, flipping her hair back once, "Mum and dad waited for me to get home before we decorated our tree because they know how much I love doing that..."

"Y-you do?"

"...aaaand then we went skiing which I don't know if you've ever done but it's actually quite brilliant..."

"Is that right?"

"...and then our cousins came from the South and my aunt took me to this bead shop and I got all these really cool beads and then she taught me how to put them together into neat bracelets and, well, see for yourself!"

Lavender rolled up one of her sleeves to reveal a band of really sparkly pink and purple beads wrapped around all her wrist and shining bright as she turned her hand for Harry to see.

"Niiice," he said, weakly.

"I know right?" said Lavender, excitedly. "So cool!" She sighed happily. "So, what did you do?"

"I...you know...just hung around...the castle was pretty quiet so—"

"OMIGOD, I forgot to tell you like only the coolest thing that happened!" Lavender suddenly exclaimed, making Harry jump slightly.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" he said, half-annoyed and half-relieved because this meant he didn't have to lie about what he did on his break, which was mostly just worry.

Harry couldn't recall most of what Lavender had said, even after he went to bed that night. She'd talked so much and for so long, that after a while he'd sort of tuned her out completely and started really watching the snow outside. Thankfully, Lavender hadn't noticed, so all was as it should be.

But when Harry awoke the next morning and came to the Great Hall for breakfast, the illusion of a good life shattered once again.

Dumbledore's seat was the only one at the staff table that was unoccupied. Harry's face fell slightly as he made his way over to where Neville, Ron and the rest of the Weasleys were sitting.

"Hi," Harry said, taking his seat.

Ginny instantly turned to talk to her friend Luna Lovegood and Hermione instantly turned to listen to whatever it was Harry was going to say.

"Has anyone seen Dumbledore this morning?" he asked at once.

Everyone shook their heads respectively, and Harry groaned silently. He kept his eyes on his plate for the remainder of breakfast and silently followed his mates to classes all day. Only at lunch time did Harry finally look up for a split second and meet eyes with Neville, who now looked equally as worried.

And this went on for about a week. Ron noticed something about halfway through and asked Harry what was up, but he only shook his head at him. Finally, when Friday rolled around, Harry had lost his patience and let his guard down one night. And that was when Ron decided enough was enough.

"Look, why don't you just ask your parents already?" he said, heatedly, annoyed by Harry's bickering all the time.

Harry frowned. That was a good question, actually. Why _hadn't_ he written to his parents about this issue yet? Technically, he'd failed to mention to Neville and Ron about Sirius and his mother, so it didn't make sense to tell them now that he mostly just didn't want to have to have _that_ conversation with his mother. If Neville heard this, he'd probably smack Harry for being so stupid.

Maybe Harry _needed_ a good smacking to get it together.

He spent the weekend trying to concentrate on other things, like his Potions essay or the midterm coming up for Defense against the Dark Arts, or Quidditch. Ron even agreed to stay out most nights and explore the castle so that Harry wouldn't have to lie awake in bed and worry. But none of those things helped (although having fun with the Marauder's Map did get his mind off of things for a while). But Monday morning, Harry was right back where he'd started. And coming in to the Great Hall, only to see Dumbledore's seat unoccupied again, didn't make things any better.

And so Harry ditched the others at lunchtime that day to go up to the owlry so he could send the letter he'd furiously scribbled during that morning's Potions lesson. But as soon as Hedwig took off with it, Harry immediately regretted his actions. His mum wouldn't be too pleased once she read his choice of words in that letter. His father might understand though...

"Where were you today, mate?" Ron asked when Harry finally showed up in the common room hours later. "We looked for you."

"Huh?" said Harry, taking a seat on the couch.

"Dumbledore's back," Neville whispered.

Harry froze. "W-what?"

"He showed up in the Great Hall for dinner," Ron went in, looking a little frightened by the look on Harry's face.

Everyone else in the common room was going about their usual things, but Harry was sitting stone frozen, and now both Ron and Neville were regretting having said anything.

"Uh, are you okay, Harry?" said Ron.

Harry took a breath, stood up, looked down at his friends again, and then left the common room.

He kept his head down the whole way to Dumbledore's office, never seeing any of the ghosts he passed or ever caring about what kind of trouble he'd get into for being caught out after curfew. He didn't even care if a dementor crossed his path at this point.

As soon as he reached Dumbledore's door, he knew that he was now in _deep shit_.

"Come in," came Dumbledore's voice shortly after Harry knocked twice.

Harry let himself in and found Dumbledore sitting at his desk with a bunch of papers in front of him.

"Harry," he said, smiling. "What a pleasant surprise, come in."

Harry slowly walked up to Dumbledore's desk and took his seat.

"Did you have a good holiday?"

Throat too tight to speak, Harry nodded.

"Have you had any problems in any of your classes since term started back up again?"

Harry shook his head.

"Get a good load of presents this year?"

Harry nodded. And then, Dumbledore frowned.

"What brings you here this evening, Harry?" he asked, softly.

Harry stared at him.

"I think you know, sir."

Dumbledore let out a light laugh. "I'm sure I do, but I'd certainly like to hear it from you."

"You..." said Harry, not sure where to begin and how to keep this polite. "You...weren't at the feast. On Christmas. Or even at school at all after that."

"Yes," said Dumbledore, waiting to hear more.

Harry paused. "Well where were you?"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

"I was worried something happened with Pettigrew," Harry quickly added.

"Ah," said Dumbledore. "Well I can assure you that it was nothing like that. I had some important affairs to attend to and unfortunately they required my absence from the Christmas Feast. Though Professors Snape and McGonagall assured me that it was quite the delicious one and the decorations were as festive as ever..."

"Look sir, I'm sorry but I don't really care about the food and the decorations," Harry interrupted. "I... you were gone. A-and Sirius was gone too. I just..."

"You assumed that one had to do with the other," Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, I don't blame you for assuming that. Harry, I promised not to lie to you and I intend on keeping that promise. I also feel that it is necessary for you to simply focus on your studies for now..."

"But sir—"

"...and focus on Quidditch and all the things that a thirteen-year-old boy _should_ worry about..."

"Sir, I—"

"...and let the adults worry about all the other stuff. It shouldn't be keeping you up at night. You are lucky to have several adults in your life that can help you make important decisions, influence you in good ways, and keep you safe. Let them take care of the other stuff, while you focus on you. Alright?"

"I—"

"Now please, Harry, I've had a very long trip and I am in need of a good night's sleep."

Harry sighed but nonetheless stood up from his chair and crossed the room. Just before he reached the door, Dumbledore added, "Oh and I would appreciate it if you would please refrain from sneaking out to Hogsmeade Village without adult supervision from now on."

Harry turned to look at the old man. "I..."

"Good night, Harry."

So as it turned out, visiting Dumbledore only made Harry feel worse. He grudgingly made his way back to the common room and was quite surprised to find it still and peaceful, with only Ron and Neville sitting by the fireplace.

"Where's everybody?" Harry wondered, taking his seat too.

"They went to bed after Fred's last blast of fireworks set some first year's arse on fire," said Ron.

"What?" gasped Harry.

"He's not making it up," Neville assured him. "Frankie's in the hospital wing right now."

"Blimey," said Harry.

"So," said Ron, not wasting any time postponing the question, "What did Dumbledore say?"

Harry looked at him. "Nothing."

"Yeah right, come on, out with it," said Ron.

But Harry only shrugged. It was true, after all. Dumbledore really had told him nothing. And the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to get away from Hogwarts and go somewhere he couldn't be lied to anymore.

Neville seemed to notice the edginess in Harry because he suddenly leaned forward and Harry caught his eye.

"Leave it alone for now," he advised. "Seriously, don't let it bother you. Just leave it alone."

Harry slowly nodded.

The first couple of weeks of January kept them all pretty busy with Quidditch and classes, even though Harry and Malfoy weren't doing private lessons with Sirius anymore (he claimed that they were all taught and ready). So, it wasn't until the first week of February that Harry and Hermione finally met up in the library for their first tutoring session. It was really strange too because they got a lot of weird looks from their classmates as they passed them to find a good table in the back where they wouldn't be bothered. Hermione had of course brought every single book she owned with her, causing some of them to topple out of her hands on the stairs. And when Harry bent down to help her pick them up, that only made the whispering of the passing students worse.

"Hopefully people don't start thinking that I'm gonna attack you again," Harry muttered as they finally got all the books piled safely on the table and took their seats.

"Harry, mind the attitude, will you?" said Hermione, exhaustively. "We're only getting started and I really don't appreciate it."

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, not meaning it one bit. "So, uh, what should we start with?" he added, his eyes on a group of Hufflepuffs at a table not too far from theirs, all of who were watching them intently.

"Well," said Hermione, her index finger pointing at one book while her eyes examined another, "We have a big Charms assignment coming up soon, let's start with that!"

"Fine," Harry mumbled, shifting in his chair.

What on earth was his mother thinking, putting the two of them together in the library? And why on earth was Hermione agreeing with this nonsense? It's not like she was getting paid for it...

"Hermione," Harry suddenly asked, "What did my mother offer you in exchange for tutoring me?"

Hermione looked up at him instantly. "And why does she have to offer me something?"

"Well it's just—"

"Are you saying that I would never do something for someone without something in return?"

"N-no, I'm just—"

"I happened to very much like your mother and she was very kind and genuine."

"But how do _you_ know that?" said Harry. "I mean, when did you have the time to...to..."

"If you must know," said Hermione, her head turning away from him, "Your parents sat down with us and the Weasleys for tea in the Great Hall that same night we all visited you and Draco in the hospital. This was after you fell asleep again. And I had a very lovely chat with your mother and I happen to admire her very much. We have a lot in common. She was just like me when she was in school."

"No one's questioning that," Harry wanted to say, but decided it was better not to.

"Now, let's get back to work," Hermione declared, and that was the end of their conversation.

For the rest of the hour in the library, they sat in total silence, scribbling away at their pages...or rather, Hermione scribbling and Harry just sitting there, thinking of anything but the Charms homework.

Harry and Hermione agreed to meet in the library for an hour every Monday, Wednesday and Thursday night at 8. Hermione assured him though that it would become 'two-hour' sessions closer to end-of-term exams. Harry groaned at the idea, but said nothing. He'd promised his mother he'd be grateful, even though he personally didn't see the point in keeping that promise if she wasn't being honest with him.

Renovations. Yeah, right.

It was now the middle of February and Harry's parents still hadn't answered any of his letters from just after Christmas. Sirius was still being sketchy, only talking to Harry about class-related things, always excusing himself out of lunches together because he had some 'stuff' to do...

It seemed that no adults trusted Harry anymore, and this hurt him a great deal.

Lavender insisted on taking 'walks about the grounds' with him every weekend, and after the third time, this got very old. They ran out of things to talk about so they just walked in silence along the lake's shore and then Harry always made some excuse about how he was cold and they should head back to the castle. He asked her once what the big deal in taking walks was, but her answer was only, "We're a couple and couples take walks."

Whatever.

Even Quidditch lost all its appeal to Harry. Now that his parents were officially ignoring him, his own godfather was missing all Quidditch matches even though he was living _in the school_ , and his friends were not understanding why any of this was bothering him, somehow he didn't feel up to playing any sports. Hermione seemed to notice his distraction because he wasn't paying attention to a word she was teaching him, and several times, she had to shut the books loudly just to get him to look at her.

"Looooooooook," he whined one late night at the end of February, "We've been at it for _hours_ now! We could at least take a little _break!"_

 _"Breaks_ won't land you those top marks your mother wants you to have," said Hermione, sternly.

Harry groaned. Did she have to be such a killjoy?

As March rolled into play, the weather got a lot foggier and rainier, making the days all gloomy and depressing. Quidditch practices were now a scarcity as a result of this, _and_ because Dumbledore insisted that the dementors and the rain didn't make for very safe playing conditions. Wood was particularly not happy about this.

On the first weekend of March, Ron, Dean and Seamus managed to score themselves a detention for goofing off in the Great Hall with a couple of Hufflepuffs and thus ticking Professor McGonagall off. They were meant to clean up the entire Trophy Room all weekend. And Hermione was out sick, so tutoring sessions were out for the weekend. This meant that Harry and Neville could hang out, just the two of them, like they hadn't done in years. It was nice, really. They played cards and wizard's chess and talked about things. But it only got _really_ interesting on Saturday night, when Harry won another game of Gobbstones yet again and Neville said, "So listen, I gotta talk to you..."

And when _Neville_ said that, it always meant something huge. Harry looked up at him, alarmed.

"What's up?" he asked.

"I...I don't mean to make this all heartfelt and ruin tonight's mood and everything..."

"But what?"

"But...well I can't really talk about this in front of the others because you're the only one who really knows her... _truly_...and it's embarrassing..."

Harry frowned, now understanding. "I wouldn't say that I'm the _only_ one that knows her..."

"Well, you know her better than the _others_ ," Neville corrected.

Harry only shrugged, doubting that was true.

"Anyway," Neville went on, "I feel like it's about time that I talk to her. _Really_ talk to her. See what I can do from my end to improve the situation."

"What situation?"

"Oh come on, Harry, you know what I'm talking about. Even you aren't that thick..."

Harry shrugged again. He'd definitely wondered before, but he'd never been sure of it until Neville started talking about it now...how was he supposed to be _sure_ of it before now?

"Just wanted to know what you think, I suppose," Neville mumbled.

"Hey, I think you should do it," Harry said at once.

"Really?"

"Yeah, for sure! I mean, it's about time you did, anyway, right? You're not getting any younger..."

"Yeah but...she's probably gonna _kill_ me..."

Harry let out a laugh. "Why would she _kill_ you? You're her friend! And just 'cause she might not feel the same way doesn't mean you should be embarrassed...take it from a guy who knows what he's talking about."

Neville was now frowning.

"Well I mean I'm not saying necessarily that she won't be interested. Maybe she will, who knows! But you should still talk to her, mate. You'll feel better."

"Who are you talking about?" said Neville suddenly.

Harry stared. "Who are you talking about?"

"My gran, of course!" said Neville.

Harry blinked. "You like your _gran?!"_

"What—no!" cried Neville. "I was gonna confront my gran about how she's been treating me all these years! Who did you think I was talking about?"

Harry's jaw dropped slightly. "Oh n-no one, it doesn't matter, really. Um, yeah, I think you should totally do it."

"Harry," said Neville, who didn't look one bit fooled.

Harry sighed.

"Okay, okay, so I kind of , sort of, maybe, _possibly_ thought you were talking about...well, about Hermione."

 _"Hermione?!"_ cried Neville. "What would I want to confront _Hermione_ about?"

At that moment, Luna Lovegood came to sit next to him on the couch and started brushing the hair of a very ugly-looking doll with a burnt eye and orange hair. Harry and Neville watched her with round eyes as she hummed a tune and continued to brush the doll's hair. This went on for several minutes until, as if nothing had happened, Luna stood up and walked away from them.

"Okay..." said Harry, feeling a little creeped out by Ginny's new bff.

"Harry," said Neville, refusing to forget the subject. "Why would I want to confront Hermione?"

"Well your feelings for her..." Harry mumbled.

Neville smiled at him.

"Well I'm sorry for assuming you liked her!" Harry said. "It was just a thought!"

"Maybe you're the one who likes her, Harry, has that ever occurred to you?" said Neville.

"Don't make me laugh, she's not my type," said Harry.

"Oh but Lavender Brown is?" said Neville.

Harry looked at him.

"You may be fooling everyone else but you're not fooling me, the guy who's known you all your life."

"I'm...not fooling anyone about anything..." Harry mumbled.

"Yeah, you are, or at least trying to," said Neville. "You don't like her that much, mate, so just break it off already!"

"It's not that simple!" Harry blurted out.

Neville smiled again.

"Okay look, yeah, you're right. This whole 'relationship' stuff is not me...like I don't wanna... I mean don't...it's just not workin' for me anymore, okay?" He sighed. "But if I tell her, she's gonna _hate_ me."

"So what?" said Neville. "You're gonna be silent about it for the rest of time? You gonna marry her?"

"NO," said Harry.

Neville laughed again.

"I just wish I could talk to Sirius about this...he seems like he knows what to do in that sort of situation..."

"So why can't you then?"

Harry gave him a look.

"Ah," said Neville. "Well, maybe if you weren't such a nosy pinhead, he'd start having lunch with you again."

Harry threw his cards down and leaned back on the couch again. "Hey Nev..."

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you're finally gonna talk to your grandmother." Neville looked up at him. "It's time."

* * *

Harry tried his best to focus on Quidditch from then on, but the gloomy weather didn't help with that, and so he couldn't help but feel bummed out when, in the middle of March, Hedwig showed up with a letter from his mother that simply wished him a good term and good luck on his exams.

 _"And I hope you're showing up to those tutoring sessions with Hermione like you promised you would."_

 _"Your father and I miss you very much and we can't wait for the summer holidays to arrive at last."_

 _"Neville is like a brother to you so you two better be taking care of each other."_

 _"Listen to all your teachers."_

 _"Don't get in trouble."_

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL!" Harry shouted at the letter.

"What?" said Ron, leaning over his shoulder to read it.

"They didn't say anything about all the stuff I wrote to them! It's like they never got the letters!"

"Well...maybe they didn't," said Ron.

"Oh grow up, of course they did!" shouted Harry. "Hedwig has never failed me."

"Okay so what do you want us to say then, Harry?" said Neville suddenly. Harry stared at him. "What do you want us to tell you? Nothing we say makes you happy so just stop and think what you should do. And then go _do_ it!"

"You know what, Neville?" said Harry, now standing up from the Gryffindor table, "That's the best advice you've given me all year."

And without another word, without even taking his books and bag and things, he marched out of the Great Hall and up the stairs to the third floor where Sirius' office was located. Crumpled letter in hand, he banged on the door until it opened at its own accord, revealing Sirius sitting at his desk, looking worried.

"Is everything alright, Harry? Come in and shut the door. What's wrong?"

Harry shut the door alright. He banged it hard behind him and walked right up to Sirius's desk. When he reached it, he slammed the crumpled letter on it and glared down at his godfather.

Sirius flattened out the letter and skimmed through it quickly. When he looked up at Harry, it was with a curious expression.

"What is this?"

"You tell me."

"Excuse me?"

And then, it came out.

"YOU'VE ALL BEEN LYING TO ME ALL YEAR! RENOVATIONS, PUH-LEASE! AS SOON AS I HEARD THAT, I KNEW IT WAS RUBBISH. AND YOU HAVEN'T TALKED TO YOUR HOGSMEADE MATES IN MONTHS, WHY START NOW? AND WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS AVOIDING ME?"

"I'm not—"

"AND DUMBLEDORE'S LYING TO ME TOO. HE DOESN'T _LIKE_ THE MINISTER, I KNOW IT! WHY WOULD HE GO _MEET_ WITH HIM?"

"Harry—"

"AND YOU KNOW WHAT, I DIDN'T WANT TO BELIEVE IT BUT IT MUST BE TRUE. EITHER SOMETHING REALLY TERRIBLE HAS HAPPENED THAT MAKES YOU ALL SO CONCERNED ABOUT PETER PETTIGREW, OR YOU AND MY MOTHER ARE SHAG—"

"ALRIGHT HARRY, THAT'S ENOUGH!" Sirius suddenly barked, actually standing up from his table and glaring at Harry.

Harry fell silent at once. Sirius had never gotten mad at him before. Never. Not once.

"I'm sick and tired of this bullshit attitude of yours," he went on. "I'm also not very pleased with the way you're talking to me—as if I'm your age or something. But what ticks me off—what _really_ ticks me off...is that you accuse me of _shagging_ _your mother!_ I mean do you even _hear_ yourself? You have no fucking right to accuse me of such a thing. How long have you known me? How long have you known your mother? NO RIGHT—DO YOU HEAR ME?"

Harry slowly nodded his head. Sirius took a breath.

"Look," he said, more calmly now, "We lied because we had our reasons and it's none of your goddamn business, alright? So just drop it already."

Harry gaped at him.

"I really want you to know that I don't appreciate this tone and your attitude," Sirius added. "So don't let the door hit you on the way out."

Harry slowly turned around and walked back out of the office, leaving his mother's letter with Sirius. He didn't return to the Great Hall after that but went to his dormitory instead and shut himself up there for the remainder of the day, his bed hangings drawn back. He stayed there the entire day and didn't even eat. At one point, Ron poked his head in to see if Harry was going to come to dinner, but Harry pretended to be asleep.

Then finally, the next day (Sunday), Harry awoke and decided that he was ready to talk. He came down the stairs, only to find the common room completely empty, with just Ron and Neville sitting there. They were playing cards when they noticed Harry walking down the spiral staircase, barefooted and still in his pajamas.

"Where is everyone?" he wondered.

Neville looked at Ron before answering "The Quidditch game."

Harry froze on the stairs.

"What Quidditch game?"

"The one against Ravenclaw," said Neville.

"No," said Harry, slowly. "No, that's not meant to be for another week!"

He came down the stairs and moved closer to where they were sitting. "It's not until the first week of April!"

"Actually, it's last week of March, not first week of April," said Neville, quietly.

Harry's eyes fell on Ron. "Well why aren't you there?"

Ron shrugged slightly.

"Won't Madame Hooch be angry?" said Harry. "Not to mention Wood and the rest of the team..."

"We told them you and Ron had the stomach flu so Madame Pomfrey issued an official letter stating that you're both not to be present at the game under any circumstances."

"And everyone believed you? Just like that?" said Harry, incredulously.

"We might've convinced Hermione to vouch for you having the stomach flu..." said Neville. "No teacher in their right mind would ever accuse Hermione Granger of lying, so once she confirmed it, the teachers believed us right away."

"She told everyone she saw us throwing up in the common room earlier," Ron added.

Harry sat down now and looked at him. "But why aren't you playing?"

"Well it doesn't take a genius to figure out that you've been going through a difficult time lately," Ron began. "And after you shut yourself up in your room for the entire weekend, we figured that we'd ask Sirius what was wrong."

"Uh-oh," said Harry.

"And he told us," Neville finished.

"H-he did?"

The boys nodded.

"And you know what," Neville added, leaning forward, "He feels really guilty about what he said."

 _"He does?"_ said Harry, who found that very hard to believe.

Neville nodded. "He wants to talk to you soon."

Harry cringed at the thought of having to have that talk with Sirius. He really felt guilty for the way he'd acted and the tone that he'd used with his godfather. He looked at the two boys sitting before him now.

"I don't know what to say...I can't believe you guys missed a Quidditch game for me."

Ron looked at Neville before answering, "We're your friends, Harry."

Harry smiled. "Best friends."

Despite Ron's and Neville's really nice gesture, Harry's mood worsened as the days went on, to the point where he much rather preferred to be by himself most of the time than with other people. He contented to taking long walks about the castle whenever he could, usually in his cloak so that no one would see him. He even started practicing his Patronus Charm late at night. It was now slowly starting to take up a shape, but he wasn't yet able to quite make out what it was.

Hermione was late to the next tutoring session, and so Harry stood by the doors of the library, waiting. His hands in his pockets and his head leaning against the doors, he tapped his foot impatiently on the marble floor and checked his watch every few minutes. It was not like her to be this late. Had she forgotten about their session altogether?

Suddenly, the doors behind him opened and he fell back a step, twisting awkwardly.

"Sorry—oh," he said, noticing it was Ginny.

She stared at him, looking as shocked as he was, and held her books closer.

"Hi," he offered.

"Hi," she replied back.

Harry paused, realising this was the first time they'd spoken in _months_.

"How—how are you?" he asked stupidly.

"Fine," she answered. "You?"

"Fine," he answered.

There was silence.

"Could you please let me through?" Ginny finally said. "I have to get to bed."

"Uh yeah, yeah sure," said Harry, moving aside to let her pass.

"Thanks," she mumbled, walking away from him.

The doors swung shut and he leaned against them again, watching her disappear from the hallway. How could things have gotten _so incredibly complicated?_ Ron didn't seem too bothered by any of this...but Ginny was definitely not herself anymore.

Harry was still thinking about this when he saw Hermione at the end of the corridor, walking with a Slytherin boy who didn't look anything like Malfoy. When they finally got to where he was standing, Hermione smiled at the boy and said, "See you later then." He nodded, looked at Harry and walked away.

"Who was that?" Harry said.

"Don't you know Atticus Avery?" Hermione said simply, opening the door to the library.

"No," said Harry, slowly. "Am I supposed to?"

"Oh he's just one of Draco's friends," said Hermione, leading Harry to their usual table. "Did you bring your Potions essay?"

Harry nodded and set his bag on the table, silently wondering if Malfoy was aware that Hermione was waltzing about the castle with his friends.

Harry found that for the entire tutoring session, Hermione was being unusually quiet. He started to wonder if this had something to do with this Avery character, but then she started asking him if he needed any clarification on anything and being unusually kind. After a half hour, he decided that he needed to say something. He slowly shut his book, causing Hermione to look up at him.

"Oh, did you want to take a break?" she said, also shutting one of hers.

"Not exactly," said Harry. He bit his lip and looked around the library before adding, very quietly, "I wanted to, uh, thank you for what you did...you know...stomach flu and all that..."

"Oh," said Hermione, surprised. "Oh, that's alright. I'm sure you would've done the same for me."

Harry paused. "I'm not so sure I would have."

Hermione gave him a weak smile and looked out the window.

"So I feel like every time we study we talk about things going on in _my life_ ," Harry began. "What's new with _you?"_

Hermione looked at him and shrugged. "My life is not nearly as exciting as yours."

"Oh come on," said Harry. "What's the latest gossip? How's Malfoy doing?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"What?" said Harry.

"You want to know how _Draco_ is doing?" said Hermione.

Harry shrugged. "Well why not?"

There was a pause.

"He's doing okay, under the circumstances."

"Which are?"

"His mother being a no-good, evil scum!"

Harry raised _his_ eyebrows. He'd never heard Hermione talk about anyone like that, especially not a grown up.

"Well she is!" she laughed.

"Yeah I guess I wouldn't argue with you there," he admitted. "Has he, uh, even talked to her since the incident?"

Hermione only shook her head. It really did suck for Malfoy, having a mother like that. Harry had never seen his father but from what his parents told him, the whole lot of the Malfoys were unpleasant.

"Do you have a crush on Malfoy?" he blurted out suddenly.

Hermione reddened instantly and looked up at Harry, horrified.

"Where on earth would you get an idea like _that?"_ she cried.

 _Maybe from you walking around with his friends, trying to make him jealous,_ Harry thought.

He shrugged. "You can't blame me for asking—you guys are really close."

"Yeah, but it _is_ possible for guys and girls to be just friends," said Hermione. "I mean you and Ginny are _just friends_ , right?"

"Actually," said Harry, looking down at his books again, "I wouldn't even call us friends."

"Well when's the last time you talked to her?"

Harry shook his head. "Tonight but that didn't count. The last time we _really_ talked was too long ago for me to remember." He looked up. "do you know why she's been acting so weird lately? I mean, it doesn't seem to be phasing Ron or any of her other brothers one bit, but I won't pretend like I haven't noticed..."

Hermione bit her lip.

"She's been really weird ever since..." Harry's eyes went slightly round and he leaned forward. "Hermione, does Ginny have a problem with...well with..."

"If you're asking me what I think you're asking me, then that should be a conversation you have with Ginny, _not me_ ," said Hermione, boldly.

"What do you think I'm asking you?" said Harry right away.

Hermione opened her mouth but then closed it again, shook her head, and reopened her books.

"She _does_ have a problem with me and Lav!" Harry whispered. "I knew she did!"

"If you knew she did then why didn't you talk to her sooner?" Hermione hissed at him.

"Because...because...I..."

"Because you don't want to have an awkward conversation with your best friend's sister," Hermione finished for him. "How very heroic of you."

 _"But I'm not a hero!"_ Harry blurted out.

Hermione looked up at him, surprised.

"Well I'm not!" he continued. "Everyone thinks I'm supposed to be this wizard god or whatever but I'm _not_. I'm not perfect!"

"Alright," said Hermione, surprising him. "You're right." She paused. "I'm sorry I said that."

Harry sighed. "I'm just so over thinking about all this. Things were so much simpler back when it was just...me and Ron and Nev."

"Harry," said Hermione, staring at him. "Are you saying you want out of your relationship with Lavender?"

Harry said nothing, thus giving Hermione her answer.

"Let's just do the assignment," he said after a long silence.

"Fine," said Hermione. "I'm not gonna tell you how to live your life, Harry, but my advice is that you talk to her. And soon."

Harry thought for a minute, then grinned.

"What are you smiling about?" Hermione frowned at him.

"You never did answer my question about Malfoy," Harry told her.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and reopened all of her books.

"Let's just do the assignment," she said.

"Fine," said Harry, also opening his. "But _my_ advice, Hermione, is that you talk to him. And soon."

Hermione only shook her head, annoyed, and continued with her work. But after twenty minutes or so, they both decided on another little break, and Harry pulled out some licorice wands that he'd snuck into the library with him.

"We can't eat that here!" Hermione whispered, but Madame Pince was nowhere to be seen and even she had to admit that a licorice wand sounded really good right about now. So Hermione nibbled on one while Harry crumpled up bits of paper and practiced tossing them into the garbage can a few feet away.

"Are you and Sirius okay now?" Hermione asked after several moments.

Harry's arm paused in midair and he looked round at Hermione.

"I heard about what happened," she told him, "I mean Neville and Ron asked me to be your alibi that day but I never did know what for until much later when Neville explained it to me. So I guess I just wondered if..."

"We haven't talked," Harry informed her before tossing the ball of paper straight into the can.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, quietly.

"Is _Draco_ okay with him?" Harry asked.

Hermione shifted in her seat and shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose so. He hasn't said otherwise."

"Well that's good for them then," Harry concluded, crumpling up another piece of paper.

"Why are you so bitter, Harry?" Hermione suddenly asked. He met her eyes. "I mean I just don't understand you. You have everything. You have so many things and so many people who love you. Isn't that enough?"

"I'm not bitter because I don't have something that I want," he clarified. "I'm not spoiled, you know. I just...you're exactly right. I have many people who love me, and yet _all of them_ are lying to me now."

"Lying about what?"

Harry sighed and looked around again.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Hermione told him. "I can understand if you don't trust me."

"No it's not that," said Harry, quickly. "Let's just get out of here."

He quickly stood up and started packing up the books scattered all over the desk. Hermione waited a few seconds before she cleared up her things too and together, they made their way out of the library.

"But where are we going?" she wondered halfway to their destination.

"Somewhere we can talk without any potential audiences," Harry said, turning the corner and leading Hermione down the hall until they reached the stairs and climbed them all the way to the fifth floor. They then reached the door to the prefects' bathroom and Harry sat down next to it.

"Odd spot," Hermione said, taking her seat as well.

"It's not a busy hallway," Harry shrugged. "Anyway," Hermione leaned forward and Harry began his tale of how everyone was lying to him...of how his parents had lied to keep him at school for the holidays...of how Sirius _and_ Dumbledore lied about where they'd been during the Christmas feast...of how his parents hadn't responded to any of his letters until just recently and all they wrote was that they hoped he was doing well in school...he even told Hermione about how he and Ron saw Pettigrew at Hogwarts back in November. This of course had to involve explaining the Marauder's Map and how it works and where he got it from. He pulled it out for Hermione to examine and even she had to admit that it was a most extraordinary object.

"I still think you should hand it in though," she kept telling him.

"Like hell I will," Harry said, taking it from her and storing it safely in his pocket at once. "This has to be about the coolest thing I've landed since my invisibility cloak. You're gonna have to pry it off my dead hands before I'll voluntarily give it away."

"But Harry, don't you get it?" said Hermione. "If what you're saying is true, and Pettigrew was one of the Marauders when he was here at school, then he helped create this map. He _knows_ it exists and he _knows_ how to use it! If you lose it...if something happens to it...he could get his hands on it and then on _you!"_

"But he won't because I won't," Harry said, "Lose it, I mean. It's with me at all times."

"Even when you're playing Quidditch?"

"Well I haven't been playing much Quidditch lately, have I?"

There was silence, during which Hermione's eyes landed on the map sticking out of Harry's pocket and then she looked away again. He could tell she strongly disagreed with him, but he'd meant what he'd said. There was no way that he was giving up the map.

"Anyway, that's not the point," he continued now.

"The point is that you need to figure out what's got the adults all worked up that they feel the need to lie to you constantly," Hermione filled in before he could go on.

"Uh yeah," said Harry. "Basically."

"Well," said Hermione, biting her lip again, "I suppose if I were you, I'd start with the most important information that you've gathered so far."

"Uh huh," said Harry, "Which is?"

"Harry," said Hermione, "Come on, weren't you listening to your own story?" Harry stared at her. "You said that when you came to see Dumbledore that night that you saw Pettigrew here, he told you that Pettigrew is basically after you so he could try to bring back to Dark Lord."

"Oh yeah," said Harry.

"So, you could use _that_ information to research some ways that someone could be brought back from the dead, even though I've never heard of such a thing..."

"Yeah but then this means that he's not technically dead," Harry reminded her. "I mean...it's true. You can't bring someone back from the dead. So then he must still be alive. Somehow."

"And we need to figure out how exactly and what would help him to come back to a full human body," said Hermione, thoughtfully.

Harry stared at her. "Wait, _we?"_

Hermione looked at him finally. "Well...I mean, only if you _want_ to..."

"No, I do!" Harry said quickly. He sighed of relief.

Their evening lessons just got a whole lot interesting.

On the following Monday, Harry kept his head down as he walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and took the seat at the very back with Ron. Some students' heads turned as they passed them, because they were all used to seeing Harry eager in Sirius' class. But Sirius didn't look surprised at this. Nevertheless, about halfway through the lesson, as he walked around the desks, supervising the students' work on their vampire essays, he slipped a note onto Harry's book.

 _See me after class._

Harry sighed. Well, if they had to have that conversation at some point...better get it over with sooner.

At the end of the lesson, Ron gave Harry a thumbs-up and Neville patted him on the back once before they followed the rest of their classmates out of the room to the Herbology greenhouses. Even Hermione turned her head to look at Harry sadly before she walked out. Sirius waited until everyone had left before he flicked his wand to shut the door and leaned against his desk, facing Harry who was still at his.

"I'm gonna be late for Herbology," Harry mumbled without looking at him.

"I'll write you a note," Sirius said simply.

Harry shifted in his seat but said nothing. This had to be the most awkward moment he'd ever had with his godfather.

"Harry," said Sirius after a moment's silence. Harry forced himself to look at him. "I want you to know that I am sorry."

"Wait... _you're_ sorry?" said Harry. "No! I mean, don't! I... _I'm_ sorry!"

"Harry, I—"

"It wasn't right for me to say those things and I was so stupid for thinking that you and my mother...well, you know..."

"Yeah, we really don't need to revisit everything that was said," said Sirius. There was a strange sort of grin that came with those words...one that Harry hadn't seen in what felt like a long time. Sirius sighed and took a few steps towards Harry to sit on one of the desks nearer. "Listen Harry, I know this year has been difficult for you of all people. You never knew Pettigrew and so it must be so confusing for you why he's after you. And no one's telling you anything so naturally you assume we don't trust you or we think you're too young to handle it."

"Well...yeah..." Harry muttered. That was exactly what he thought.

"Your parents may be a thousand years old but I'm still young and cool," Sirius went on. "I know what it's like to be a teenager. I get it." Harry grinned. "I'm saying that I'm sorry for keeping you out of the loop for basically this entire year. It wasn't fair and I'm sorry."

"So will you tell me everything then?"

Sirius paused. "I wish I could but that's really not up to me. I'm sure you understand that."

"I guess I do," Harry admitted. Even he knew how difficult Dumbledore could be, and sitting here now with Sirius, he could only imagine how much Sirius wanted to tell him everything.

"Hey Sirius," Harry said now. Sirius looked at him finally. "Is it okay if we start having our lunches again?"

It took a moment for the words to reach Sirius, but when they finally did, he smiled.

"Absolutely."

Harry and Hermione were both equally excited about their new research project, that as a result, they extended their study time to every weekday and for _two_ hours instead of one. However, Hermione was still insistent that for at least a half hour of those two hours every night, they do actual schoolwork. But other than that, they spent an hour and a half every night researching through dusty old books for any cures to 'almost-deaths'. It kept them pretty busy so that when they got back to the common room each night, they were both so tired they went straight to bed. But they did their best to keep these meetings light and fun instead of moody and depressing; Harry usually supplied the snacks for their research sessions while Hermione supplied the stories for their breaks.

By the second week of April, Harry already knew all about her muggle relatives and the schools that she went to when she was a kid and all the bullies she'd dealt with and how she and Malfoy met and why she was so studious. And she knew all about him and Neville growing up together and all the great stories that he had to tell and how his parents were when they were at school and all about the Marauders and Pettigrew and the whole story. At one point, Harry even told her about how Sirius sent a girl for Remus that was almost twice younger, and how they actually hit it off. That was a good hour of laughter that they shared and Madame Pince ended up telling them off for being loud.

Given how secretive it was what Harry and Hermione were up to, Harry decided that it was best not to tell Neville or Ron about it just yet. It would only make it that much harder for them to keep it from people like Sirius. But as the days progressed, new rumours started to circulate around the school, only further complicating both Harry's and Hermione's lives. And the fact that neither Ron or Neville actually knew what Harry and Hermione were really up to, only made this first.

He first found out about these rumours on the third week of April. He was walking into the Great Hall on Monday morning and found, as always, most students' heads turned in his direction. He stopped for a second, then located Ron, Neville and the other Weasleys and made to sit with them.

"What's everyone staring at?" he asked at once. Ron sat silent as a rock, the Weasley twins grinned stupidly, and Neville just looked plain awkward. Ginny wasn't even there.

"What's going on?" Harry repeated.

"Word on the street is, you and Hermione Granger are hooking up!" Seamus informed him gladly.

Harry spat out his orange juice and turned to Ron and Neville, eyes round, for confirmation of this.

"It's true," Neville assured him.

"But...why?" Harry breathed.

"Well you guys have been spending a lot of time together," Dean explained.

"Not _that_ much," Harry argued.

"Every weeknight after dinner you're in the library for two hours and then you both come back super tired and go straight to bed," Seamus pointed out. "It doesn't take a genius to figure out what's going on there."

"But I—"

"It's just hard to believe that you guys are only studying and that's all," said Ron.

"We—"

 _"Harry_ ," came a voice behind him.

Harry slowly turned in his seat to find Lavender standing before him, pink in the face and arms crossed.

"Hi Lav," he said, weakly. "W-what's up?"

"You tell me," she said, angrily. "What's all this rubbish I keep hearing about you and Hermione Granger?"

"I-I promise, it's just rubbish," Harry told her. "Seriously, it's just talks. You know it's not real."

"I do, do I?" she said. When Harry didn't answer, she rolled her eyes and turned to look at her girlfriends who were ushering her to come sit with them. She turned back to him. "I've gotta go but we're gonna talk about this later."

She didn't wait for him to answer but walked away quickly.

"Damn," said George.

"Harry's really in for it now," said Fred.

"Shut up," Harry muttered to both of them.

That evening, he had to cancel his lesson with Hermione so that he and Lavender could have their 'talk'. Lavender actually had everyone clear out of the common room just for this occasion. And to Harry's _horror_ , they gladly did. Or at least, that's what it looked like. He was so sure that they were all pressing their ears on their dormitory doors, listening to every word of their conversation so as not to miss a single thing.

Harry sat on the coffee table near the fireplace and looked at Lavender, half annoyed and half anxious about what was to come now.

And Lavender, who wasn't planning on wasting any time, got straight to it.

"I don't think it's very fair that you've just agreed to these private _tutoring_ lessons without even consulting me first!"

"Yeah but it wasn't my idea, as you very well know."

"It doesn't matter, Harry! I'm your girlfriend and you should've told me about this!" Harry sighed. "Second, I think it's actually _ridiculous_ that you need help in _every_ subject. Can't you do your own homework?"

 _"I do_ ," he clarified, but Lavender didn't seem to hear him.

"...and you don't even seem to care how this affects _me!_ Everyone—and I do mean everyone—is talking about you and Hermione and gosh, it's just so embarrassing for me! I mean what am I supposed to tell people when they ask me why my boyfriend is out with some _other_ girl?!"

"But I'm _studying_ with her!"

"Oh is that right?" said Lavender, now stopping to look at him. "Can you honestly tell me that for the entire two hours that you're with her in the library every night, you're both studying?"

Harry sighed again and looked away from her.

"Well?!" she cried.

Harry thought. He thought of every moment he and Hermione shared laughing their heads off about some memory from their pasts. He thought of the night Madame Pince told them off for being loud. He thought of that time Hermione wrestled him for the last licorice wand and how they ended up each getting half because it broke during their wrestle. He then looked up at Lavender.

"I'm going to bed," he announced.

What was he supposed to say? "Sorry Lav, but I find talking to Hermione a bloody lot more interesting than talking to you, even if we mostly talk about school"?

Lavender didn't argue, but just gaped at him as he made his way up the spiral staircase (walking loudly on purpose so all the eavesdroppers would have the decency to pretend they _weren't_ listening). He went into his dormitory and found Ron, Neville, Dean and Seamus all strangely and silently asleep. Sure. Not caring, Harry slipped into his pajamas and collapsed on his bed. He looked up at the ceiling.

Well, there it was. His first ever fight with his _girlfriend_.

The next night, Harry waited for Hermione in the library for fifteen minutes before he decided that she wasn't coming. He packed up his things and hurried out to look for her. It only took him fifteen minutes to find her. She was hiding out in the courtyard, sitting on a blanket under a tree with a book in her lap. It was raining lightly, but she still looked safe under the tree's bush. Harry approached her, proud for remembering that she'd once mentioned it was her favourite spot in the castle. It was either going to be there or the common room.

When she saw him approaching, she quickly shut her book and looked up, surprised.

"How did you—?"

"Hermione, please don't take what Lavender said to heart," Harry interrupted. "No, I mean it. I've enjoyed spending all this time with you and you've actually helped me a lot in school. Remember that Herbology paper that was due last week? I _aced_ it. I've never gotten higher in Herbology. It's actually my worst subject but that's because it's so bloody stupid..."

"It's not s—"

"Point is, I need you. So don't give up on me now."

Hermione sighed and looked away from him.

"You don't have anything to feel bad about," he told her. "Lavender's not gonna control my life. _I_ get to decide who I hang out with, _not her."_

"Wow," Hermione whispered after a while. "I guess you're a lot better of a person than Draco is."

"Why's that?" Harry said, surprised.

When Hermione didn't answer right away, he sat down next to her and waited, so that she knew she had no choice but to answer.

"A while back, we had this fight," she began, "Well, it was actually a recurring fight...but I feel like for our entire friendship, he's always struggled with deciding who to hang out with. He's always let people around him dictate who he'd be seen with. And that's one of the many reasons why we always fought because I always felt like he was just letting his Slytherin friends decide for him and that's not fair to me."

"No, it's not," he agreed. "Did you tell him that?"

She nodded, but then looked down at her lap again.

"What is it?" said Harry.

"I didn't try to skip tonight's session just because of Lavender Brown," she whispered. "I...I wanted to stop our lessons because...because Draco also thinks that we're...you know..."

"Did you clear things up for him?"

"I tried to but it's not like it's the first time we've ever had this fight before...well I mean..." she sighed again, and Harry wondered why was it so difficult for her to say this?

"Hermione," he said now, and she looked up at him, " _Do_ you like him?"

"Not Draco," she whispered.

It took Harry a moment but he eventually put it together. "His best friend..."

Hermione nodded. "One of them, at least."

An image of Atticus Avery formed in Harry's mind.

"And he hasn't got a clue?"

He didn't need to specify that he meant Malfoy. She got it right away and shook her head.

"Hermione, you've got to tell him," Harry said at once. "No I mean it. The sooner you do it, the better. You _have_ to tell him." She started to argue but he went on. "Look at facts. If he's this mad when he thinks it's _me_ you're crushing on, can you imagine how much madder he'll be when he finds out it's his _best friend_?"

"One of!" she corrected, her eyes full of tears.

"You _have_ to tell him," Harry repeated.

Hermione rested her head on the tree trunk and closed her eyes. "You don't think I know that?"

Even though Harry knew she couldn't see him, he shook his head.

The next day, Harry decided to sit Ron and Neville down and tell them the truth about what he and Hermione had been up to, so that at least _they_ would believe him when he was saying that they _weren't_ hooking up. It was painful even just to think about it. But before Harry could get the words out, Hermione ran into the common room, looking flustered and out of breath.

"What is it?" Harry asked at once, getting strange looks from both Ron and Neville (and several other people in the common room.

"Trial," Hermione breathed. "Hagrid. Minister. B-Buckbeak."

"Oh no, the trial!" cried Neville, getting to his feet. "Harry, I completely forgot to tell you!"

"What?" cried Harry, also on his feet now. "What about the trial?"

"The Ministry issued a trial against Hagrid and the hippogriff and we've been helping Hagrid prepare for it!" Neville explained. He turned to Hermione. "You saw Hagrid then?"

She nodded, still trying to catch her breath. Harry turned to Ron. "When did you guys start helping Hagrid?"

"When you and Hermione started studying together every day," Ron answered with a sort of bitterness in his voice.

"Oh," Harry mouthed, turning back to Hermione and Neville. "So the trial was today then?"

Hermione nodded.

"Well what happened?" said Harry and Neville together.

Hermione took a giant breath and shouted out, "THEY'VE SENTENCED BUCKBEAK TO DEATH!"

Harry froze at these words.

He had been so occupied with so many other things this year that he'd completely neglected Hagrid and what he must've been going through the entire time. He hadn't even had the courtesy to _visit_ him, much less ask about how the whole hippogriff thing was going!

"I—am—an—idiot," Harry declared.

"I'm sure I agree, but why this time?" said Neville.

Harry ignored him and set out of the common room straight away. To his great relief, the others followed.

They arrived together at Hagrid's Hut just ten minutes later and Harry banged on the door several times, not caring that the cold spring wind was making him shiver in his bare arms.

"Hagrid, I know you're in there!" he shouted, feeling guiltier with every pound to the door.

After several minutes of this, Hagrid finally opened the door and let them all in.

"Oh, 'ello all," he said, his voice cold. "Decided to drop in, 'ave you?"

"Hagrid, I'm really sorry," Harry began. "Seriously. I've just had so much to deal with and...you know what, there's no excuses. I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have forgotten but I did and I can't do anything to change the past now but I can definitely help you change the future."

"And how are yeh going ter do that, I wonder?" Hagrid said, blowing his nose on his giant handkerchief before sitting down. The others stood about the hut, also looking extremely guilty.

"I just can't believe they convicted him," Hermione said, quietly.

"I don't know how we're going to do it but we're definitely going to appeal the court's decision," Harry declared.

But Hermione was shaking her head now. "You can't, Harry. The minster himself made the final decision."

"But this is between Hagrid and the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures—"

"Apparently, Pansy Parkinson's _mother_ was very sympathetic to her daughter's story and she influenced the minister so that he ended up making the final decision himself," Hermione explained, with every ounce of bitterness she had to offer her voice. "They're all gonna be here on the last day of May to...well to..."

"To kill Buckbeak!" Hagrid cried, and before they knew it, he burst into tears.

Neville quickly hurried to set the tea kettle and Ron fetched another handkerchief for Hagrid. Hermione hurried to his side and patted him on the back and Harry sat at the table in front of him and took his giant hand.

"Hagrid," he said, urging him to look at him, "I promise you, this isn't over. We're going to fix it."

"But how can yeh?" Hagrid moaned.

"Can you just trust me?" Harry told him. Hagrid met his eyes. "I know what I'm doing."

"Do you really?" Hermione asked once they finally got back to the common room and Harry collapsed on the couch in front of the fireplace.

"Not a clue," Harry admitted. "But if it'll have any chance in helping Hagrid's case, then I'll do what I should've done months ago..."

Ron, Neville and Hermione listened closer and Harry sighed.

"I'm going to write to Remus."

Having Lunch with Sirius again really was refreshing and actually quite nice. Harry actually got to tell Sirius all about what's been happening with Lavender and Sirius gave him some really important advice.

"Dump her," he said between bites of salad.

"That's harsh," said Harry.

"No I'm serious," he said. "Girls like Lavender are clingy. Clingy isn't good. Dump her and move on. She'll be better off anyway. You're too popular for her own good."

Harry let out a laugh.

Remus answered Harry's letter sooner than he'd thought he would. It was actually only a matter of hours before he was reading his reply in the owlery.

 _I am sorry to hear that the Minister's final decision was against Hagrid and the hippogriff. However, I must say I agree with your friend Hermione that nothing can be appealed if it was the Minister's decision alone. If I were you, Harry, I would go to Dumbledore about this and see if he could perhaps persuade the Minister to change his mind. But I also advise you to be there the day the Minister arrives at Hogwarts with an executioner. Hagrid will need all the support he can get._

 _Hope you are doing well._

 _Your friend,_

 _Moony._

So this was it. His only options...either talk to Dumbledore...

Or...

Talk to Dumbledore.

"Harry, where you going? We've still got dessert!" Ron said when Harry got up from the Gryffindor table that night at Dinner.

"I'm tired," he said.

"But...dessert!" said Ron.

"Are you feeling alright, Harry?" Neville asked.

Even Hermione was looking at him worriedly, but he only shook his head at her and glanced in the direction of the empty Headmaster's seat, thus giving himself away.

"Good luck mate," Ron whispered to him instantly.

"Be kind," Neville reminded him.

Harry's eyes landed on Hermione.

"Later?" she mouthed to him, and he nodded his agreement to meet up after he went to see Dumbledore.

It was surprisingly easy for him to get to Dumbledore's office without talking himself out of it. He knew he had to do this eventually...for Hagrid's sake at least. And he was doubly surprised to find that Dumbledore was not alone in his office. Or so it seemed.

Harry walked up to his door and meant to knock when he caught Dumbledore's apparently angry voice. He slowly edged up closer to the door and pressed his ear on it ever so lightly.

"We need to take _control_ of the situation, Dumbledore, not fear it!" said a voice Harry recognised at once.

His heart stopped.

"...but I want you to think about what you're asking me to do," Dumbledore answered. "Think about your wife. Your friends. Your _son_. Think about how much they need you. This is a really big sacrifice for you to make."

"And yet it has to be made," answered the voice, "For everybody's sake."

"But what you're not taking into consideration is..."

"Harry?"

Harry spun around. His mother was standing just behind him, holding several papers in her hands and a curious expression on her face.

"Harry!"

She pulled him into her arms and hugged him tight. Harry said nothing, and when she released him, he stared at her.

"I'm so glad to see you, dear!" she told him. "You look really well!"

"M-m-mom?" he said. "What...what are you...?"

The door to Dumbledore's office opened and his father came out, led by Dumbledore.

"Harry!" said James, also pulling him into a hug. "How's it going? How's Quidditch practice?"

"I..." said Harry, not knowing what on earth was going on here.

"Harry, how nice to see you again," said Dumbledore, also smiling pleasantly at him. "Was there something in particular that you wanted?"

Harry looked at the three adults standing before him, smiling their fake smiles and pretending like nothing was wrong.

"I...I was just wondering if, uh, maybe there's something that can be done about...about Hagrid's hearing..."

"Oh if only there _was_ something..." said Lily, sadly.

"If you ask me, it was a really strange last-minute power change," said James. "Usually, the Department of the Care and Control of Magical Creatures is supposed to take care of these things, not the _minister_."

"The Ministry is corrupt altogether these days," said Lily.

Harry watched his parents carefully, trying to decide why they were there and what on earth they'd been talking to Dumbledore about before.

"Yeah," he said, slowly, his eyes on Professor Dumbledore, "But anyway, _is_ there? Anything?"

Dumbledore sighed and put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "What _you_ can do is be there for your friend when it happens."

Harry nodded his head, thinking that a simple _no_ would've sufficed.

The day of the execution arrived sooner than Harry could even believe it. He awoke early on the Sunday, last day of May, feeling anxious and sick. Ron and Neville woke up not long after and together, they breakfasted before anyone else showed up in the Great Hall. By the time students started to lurk around the corridors and slowly make their way down to the Great Hall, those three were already headed to the Entrance Hall. They were very surprised however to find that Hermione was already waiting at the door...

...with Ginny.

"What are you guys doing here?" Harry asked, reaching them first.

"We're here for the same reason you are," Hermione told him, "To support Hagrid."

"Let's go then," said Neville, leading the way.

It was very sunny and hot out as the 5 made their way down the sloping lawns to Hagrid's Hut. Harry was the one who knocked on the door, and it only took Hagrid 8 minutes this time to answer it, which was an improvement to last week's 15 minutes.

"'ello," he said, miserably.

"Come on, Hagrid, let's take a walk," said Neville.

So Hagrid accompanied them on a walk around the lake. They made two whole laps around the lake and then finally settled on the grass just near Hagrid's Hut. They sat there and talked for _hours_ about anything and everything but the obvious. Hermione told tales of the muggle world, Ron talked about Percy's numerous opportunities for employment after graduation, and Neville discussed some things he'd read about goblins in the Daily Prophet. Harry and Ginny were the only ones who hadn't said a word yet. Ginny was being quiet as usual, and Harry was too focused on watching Hagrid and feeling sorry for him.

At noon, they decided on another walk and then Neville and Ginny ran to get food for them all. They ate in Hagrid's Hut and then took another walk. The day got hotter and hotter as the hours went by, until it was finally suppertime and there wasn't anything else they could do to avoid it.

"It's time ter face it," Hagrid sighed, looking over his shoulder at where Buckbeak was strapped to a chain just on the edge of his pumpkin patch. "It's no use pretendin' nothing's gonna happ'n."

"We'll be there when it happens, Hagrid," Hermione promised.

He looked round at her. "You'll do no such thing!" She gaped at him. "You think I want you lot seein' somethin' like that?"

"Hagrid, we can handle it," said Ron, but Hagrid only shook his head, wiped his nose and got to his feet.

"I've got ter go and meet Dumbledore," he announced. "And you lot better be getting' back to the castle before it's dark." He turned to Harry. "Especially you, Harry."

Harry said nothing.

The five got to their feet too and followed Hagrid back up the path to Hogwarts.

But when they reached the Entrance Hall, they all froze, including Hagrid.

Dumbledore was standing there with the Minister, a man with an axe (who couldn't possibly be confused as someone other than the executioner), Professor McGonagall, and Draco Malfoy with a couple of other Slytherins.

Harry's eyes landed on the executioner, a man with cold, stone-like eyes that had no feeling behind them. And suddenly, without expecting it, a sharp sadness hit Harry deep in the chest, and he acted on it.

"Professor!" Harry cried, running up to Dumbledore. "Professor, please! You've got to do something. You can't let them do this to Hagrid!"

"Nice to meet you too, Harry," said the Minister, frowning down at him.

"Harry," said Dumbledore, "Won't you please introduce yourself to the Minister here?"

Harry gave Dumbledore a pleading look, but Dumbledore's own 'warning' look was a lot more influencing, so Harry turned to the Minister.

"Harry Potter, sir," he said, nodding apologetically.

The Minister took his hand and smiled. "A pleasure to meet you at last. I personally can't believe we've never met before."

"Yeah, me neither," Harry said through a fake smile.

"Professor," said Neville, who was by his side now, "And Minister of course," he added shortly, "Won't you _please_ reconsider?"

"For Hagrid's sake?" Ron added.

 _"Please?"_ Hermione contributed. "I've been with Hagrid and Buckbeak almost the entire year. I know him. He's a good hippogriff!"

Hagrid only blew on his nose again and the Minister sighed and gave Dumbledore a look.

"Children, please," said Professor McGonagall, but Dumbledore slowly shook his head at her.

In Harry's opinion, he looked very amused by their unplanned speech.

Harry's eyes landed on Draco, who was standing just on the edge of things, with all his Slytherin pals to back him up. But Harry still hadn't figured out what he was doing there. All he knew was that the pale-faced boy looked incredibly sorry.

"Children," said the Minister, "I can't do anything even if I wanted to! When a student's parents address concerns, I _have_ to take action. I need to respect the students' parents and their wishes!"

"But what if those wishes are profoundly malevolent?" Hermione blurted out.

"And cruel?" said Ginny, speaking up for the first time that day.

"And evil?" said Ron.

"And premature?" said Neville.

"And _unfair_ ," Harry finished.

The adults looked at each other.

"I mean, what does this supposedly teach us kids?" said Ron. "That we should act on all our instincts without ever giving them a second thought?"

"Now, now, surely you—"

"Excuse me, Minister," said a voice.

Everyone turned to look in Malfoy's direction, and _he_ turned to reveal Pansy Parkinson standing behind him, looking flustered, angry, and annoyed.

"Ms. Parkinson, what are you doing here?" the Minister asked. "Is there something you wanted?"

The girl looked at everyone in the crowd before her eyes landed on Malfoy. The pair of them seemed to be having some sort of a silent conversation that led Pansy to walk up to the Minister and say, "I want to revoke my charges."

* * *

 _Draco_

* * *

When his friends got back to the castle after the holidays, Draco had to admit that his spirits had lifted considerably, especially now that his ankle was good as new. Theo and Blaise had also given him pretty good gifts that year, and so he was fairly excited to see them again. He met his friends down in the Entrance Hall with their trunks and their pet cages. To everyone's great surprise, Regina flew into Draco's arms as soon as she saw him.

"Hiiiiii!" she squealed.

Eyes round, he stared at his friends from over her shoulder until she finally released him.

"Uh, hi," he said awkwardly, having not expected that at all.

"Hey," Pansy added, joining Regina's side. "How was your break, weirdo?"

"It was good," Draco answered, pushing Crabbe playfully on the shoulder and winking at Goyle.

"You didn't miss us too much?" Blaise mocked.

"Oh you know it," said Draco. "I cried myself to sleep every night from missing you lot."

"I knew it," sighed Blaise, resting his arms on Avery's shoulder. "Look Avery, our boy Draco has had his heart broken."

"We're horrible, horrible people!" Avery laughed.

Draco only rolled his eyes at the goofs.

He escorted his friends back to the common room where they dumped their things on their beds, resolving to unpack them later. They met up in the main room again and pulled out their Christmas things to compare. It was a nice evening, until Blaise decided to ruin it.

"So Draco," he said, pulling a card from the deck and folding his legs on the carpet, "What was up with Rickford hugging you like that? There something you're not telling me?"

"Oh yeah, definitely," said Draco, putting down a card. "Pass me your king of diamonds."

Blaise passed the card, but still didn't drop the subject like Draco'd hoped he would.

"But seriously," he continued, "If you guys are doing the wild thing, I'd rather hear it from you before it goes around the school and I end up hearing it from that gap-toothed fourth year, Melanie Freakard."

"You mean Melanie Sleekard?" said Theo. "She's actually looking better nowadays."

"Whatever," said Blaise, all of his attention to Draco. "Spill."

"There's nothing to tell," Draco assured him. "Honestly, I don't bloody know why she did it, she just did, okay?"

"Nope, don't buy it," said Blaise. "You guys are hooking up."

"I highly doubt that," said Theo, and Draco secretly gave him a 'thank you' smile which Blaise missed.

"Besides, I thought you liked her," Draco said to Blaise.

"Nah, this week it's Georgina," Blaise said, thoughtfully.

Draco and the others laughed.

"How was your break, Draco?" Goyle asked after a while.

"Yeah, did you do anything fun?" Crabbe asked.

"Besides shagging Rickford in the closet," Blaise added.

"Dude, she wasn't even in school," said Draco.

"Well, to _our_ knowledge, she wasn't," said Blaise.

Theo smirked.

"So what'd you do?" Crabbe asked again.

Draco shrugged. "Just hung around and annoyed the Gryffindors I guess…"

The others seemed fairly pleased with this answer because the relentless gossip and rumours proceeded for the rest of the night, finally letting Draco out of the spotlight and into the shadows, where he belonged.

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

"Do you remember when I once told you that you reminded me a lot of Harry?" Sirius said.

Draco didn't answer. He wasn't yet sure how he felt about this.

"He was also in my office just a few hours ago, asking me the same things you're asking me now," Sirius went on.

"And was your answer enough for him?"

"Perhaps," said Sirius.

"Will it be enough for me?"

"Ah, well that depends on you." Sirius paused, looking concentrated. "I'm sorry to tell you that it's not gonna be a very _fascinating_ excuse." Draco waited. "My buddy Remus—you know, Professor Lupin—had an out-of-town emergency and he needed my help. I would've gotten back in time if it hadn't been for him. He wanted to thank me for getting there as soon as I did, so we hit a couple of strip clubs."

"What are those?" said Draco.

Sirius paused. "Uh...I'll take you sometime, when you're in fifth…uh, sixth year."

Draco frowned. "Well was this... _emergency_ wolf-related?"

"Yes and no," Sirius said, slowly.

Draco nodded. It was a good enough answer for him anyway. But then Sirius started to change the subject and talk about Quidditch and other things. Draco suddenly remembered that he had one more question to ask him.

"Uh Sirius," he said, looking his cousin in the face. "Do you happen to know where Dumbledore was on Christmas Eve?"

Sirius smiled weakly. "Harry asked the same thing and I can honestly tell you that I have no idea."

Draco nodded again, this time _not_ believing him.

Something fishy was going on here. There was no doubt in that.

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

"Why so quiet, Aves?" said Blaise after the gang had finished their third game of cards and resorted to just hanging out on the couches.

"Yeah, you haven't said a word all night," said Theo.

Draco looked at Avery, who was sitting just by the coffee table, frowning down at a hefty book.

"Where's the book from?" he asked.

Avery looked up at him. "I borrowed it from a friend."

"Which friend?"

There was a pause. "Does it matter?"

Draco looked away. Somehow, he didn't feel like talking to Avery right now.

The next day, Avery sat next to him at breakfast as if last night hadn't happened, and so Draco decided to pretend like it never had. This was surprisingly easy to do, for in no time, things were like they used to be. Draco was enjoying all of his classes again and was doing really well with Quidditch, especially now that he was allowed to play again, what with his ankle healing quickly. The only thing that sucked was Sirius sending a note about a week after term resumed, telling him that the Patronus lessons were over.

"But why?" Draco asked him after a lesson one day, as students piled out of the classroom to lunch.

Sirius opened his mouth to answer, but Potter waltzed right by him, looking unusually angry.

"What's up with him?" Draco asked, staring after him as he left the class.

"He's just dealing with some things right now," Sirius answered. "And anyway, I'm not cancelling the lessons because I don't want to teach you boys anymore. I'm cancelling them because you're already at the level I expect from you."

"We are?" said Draco, turning back to him.

Sirius paused. "Well, for your _age_ , yeah."

"But—"

"Look, the truth is, I really don't want another dementor attack happening anytime soon."

"All the more reason for you to keep coaching us!" said Draco.

Sirius looked at him, and then looked away again. "You should get going, I have another class to get ready for."

And that was the end of that.

Although Draco really wanted to prod on and find out what the heck was happening, he didn't feel comfortable annoying Sirius like so. After all, he'd only known the man for a few months—not even. If anyone was going to do the annoying around here, it was Potter. And something told Draco that he already was…

Sirius wasn't the only one acting different after the holidays. Snape had taken on a new attitude too. He kept trying to find ways and reasons to talk to Draco, and suddenly putting more effort into finding times to hang out with him. At first, Draco pretended not to notice. Admittedly, he enjoyed the effort that Snape put into it. But after a few weeks of this, it got really weird and Draco knew he had to say something…

...especially after the second time Snape suggested that Draco accompany him to Hogsmeade for a drink.

 _"Are you_ _crazy, Sev?!"_ Draco cried. Snape blinked at him. "What's up with you lately? Don't you think you could get into serious trouble for sneaking me to Hogsmeade when I'm not supposed to be there? Especially with all these dementors floating around out there?"

"Draco, I think you're over—"

"I'm not overreacting!" Draco cried. "Look, I get that you wanna hang out but I just don't get it. Why is it so important? I'm not even mad at my mother anymore!"

Snape didn't have an answer for this, but only looked away.

"Well it's true!" Draco continued. "I'm not mad. I'm just...indifferent."

"That's quite a hefty word for a thirteen-year-old," Snape observed.

"Friends with Hermione Granger, remember?" said Draco.

Snape smirked at him.

And speaking of Hermione…Draco couldn't help but notice how as soon as everyone returned from the holidays, Hermione started to act strange again. It was _maddening._ He still couldn't figure out what was up with her, and each of his theories was worse than the last.

"Are you still working with Ms. Parkinson and Ms. Rickford?" Snape asked him, turning his mind away from Hermione.

"Um, I d-dunno," he said, distractedly.

Ever since the holidays, they actually hadn't talked about getting back to work again, and Draco had to admit that the little break was nice…it was like he had one less thing to worry about and it actually felt great. He dreaded having to tell the girls that he didn't want to do this anymore.

By the end of January however, he had no choice but to confront the situation…especially when Regina and Pansy cornered him in the common room one late night.

"We have to get back to work if we're gonna have any shot at winning this case," Pansy declared. "The hearing is 3 months away!"

"Exactly, _three months_ ," said Draco. "We've got plenty of time."

"Nuh-uh!" cried Pansy. "We need to get cracking so get off your lazy arse and let's go!"

"You know what, I'm gonna skip this one," said Draco once the two girls pulled him off the couch.

"You're _what?"_ said Pansy. "Why? Did _she_ tell you to?"

Draco turned to her. "Don't talk about her like that. She didn't tell me to do anything. I decide for myself."

"So why the sudden change of heart?" said Pansy.

"Guys," said Regina, but both Draco and Pansy ignored her.

"I just don't bloody feel like doing any extra work, thanks very much!" Draco snapped at Pansy.

"Well fine, you go do whatever stupid stuff you and your friends always do, and my _real_ friend Regina will help me win this case."

"Yeah good luck with that."

Pansy scoffed and pulled Regina away with her. Regina looked back at Draco once before exiting the common room. Draco sighed. Well that was painful.

When February finally rolled in, bringing with it storms of heavy snow and freezing temperatures, Hermione had her first tutoring session with Potter, much to Draco's dismay. She met up with him afterwards, like she'd promised over Christmas break, and they sat together in the courtyard.

"So how was it?" he said.

"Okay I suppose," Hermione answered. "We just studied mostly."

"Mostly?"

"Yeah, mostly."

Draco said nothing. Why couldn't Potter do his own homework? Why did he need a babysitter to do it?

The next strange thing occurred about a week later when the boys were playing cards again in the common room and Avery finally showed up.

"Well it's about time," said Blaise. "Where the hell have you been?"

"What are you talking about?" said Avery.

"We looked for you!" said Crabbe.

"You weren't at dinner," said Goyle.

"Are you feeling okay?" said Theo.

"Guys, I'm fine, leave me alone!" cried Avery. "Can't a man go to the library without getting the second degree?"

"I think you mean third degree," said Theo, but Avery ignored him and settled on the couch, his book tucked away but still showing.

Draco's eyes narrowed at the title, and then he glared at Avery. Avery glared back.

"What?" he snapped.

"Where's the book from?"

"The library, duh, where else?"

Draco tilted his head slightly, his eyes still on Avery. "I've seen that book only in one place and I'll tell you, it wasn't the Hogwarts library."

Avery said nothing.

And that was when Draco realised how stupid he really was. Did he actually think that he could try and trick a _Slytherin_ into telling him the truth? Avery was a born-Slytherin, raised by Slytherin parents and living amongst Slytherin ideologies his whole life. There was no way he was gonna give up information he didn't want to give up. Not without a fight, that is. So if Draco really wanted to figure out what was going on with Hermione, he'd have to resort to different, more desperate measures...

The next day, Draco excused himself from Quidditch practice, on the grounds of having a terrible headache which he totally lied about. Once he was out free, he headed for the Great Hall at once, thinking that this had to be the worst idea he'd ever come up with. When he arrived there, he was just about to talk himself out of it when he spotted her, sitting by herself at the Gryffindor table, her head bent over a book. Luckily, there weren't that many people at the table having an early supper, so he at least didn't have _that big_ of an audience. There wasn't likely to be _that_ big of an outrage, was there?

Oh who was he kidding...if he did this, come tomorrow the rumours would be flying and probably reach Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. Oh well. That was a risk he knew he had to take. With one deep breath, he forced his legs to move and stopped just in front of her. It took her several seconds to realise he was standing there. She looked up, startled, and waited.

"Can I sit?" Draco forced himself to say.

She looked around, confused.

Draco rolled his eyes. "You're not imagining it; I _am_ talking to you."

She looked back at him, still confused. Then a split second later, she nodded slowly, and he took his seat across from her. Heads were already turned in their direction, but Draco did his best to ignore them and pretend like they weren't there.

"We...we've never been _formally_ introduced..." he began, feeling like this was the best way to start. "I'm Draco Malfoy. Uh, I'm sure you've heard a lot about me from different people, so I guess it's about time we met and you heard about me, well, from _me_."

She blinked at him, still not saying anything.

"And I know who you are," Draco sighed, "Because I...suppose I've heard about you too..."

Still, she said nothing. He groaned silently. Had this been a mistake?

He looked around, then leaned forward, his eyes on her brown ones.

"Look," he said, his voice lowered, "My best friend is acting different and I know you know why, so why don't we just cut the small talk and you tell me so I can be on my way and you can get on with your book?"

"So in other words, you want to use me to get your information and then never speak to me again," the girl finally answered, and quite cleverly so.

Draco's eyebrows rose slightly before he even realised this.

"I..." he said, not really knowing _what_ to say. "Well I just..."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Draco Malfoy, but I'm not gonna be that easy," the girl declared, leaning away from him and crossing her arms.

Draco sighed. Well this certainly was going to be a lot harder than he'd thought it would.

"I didn't think you were easy," he began, "But...I don't know who else to ask. And be honest, do you really think we'll ever speak to each other again after this?"

The girl let out a laugh. "You're really not good at this, are you?"

"No, not at all," said Draco, looking down at his arms and grinning slightly.

"I'll help you," the girl offered, now closing her book and sliding it aside. Draco looked up. "If you don't know who else to ask, how about you ask _her?"_

"You know I can't do that," said Draco.

"Well why not?"

"Because...look, you've probably never had this sort of situation so you don't get it, but it's not that easy to talk to someone when they completely shut you out."

"Oh I don't know what that feels like?"

Draco paused. "Well, to my knowledge..."

"Your knowledge is bogus then," she answered, bitterly. "You don't know anything about me so I'd very much prefer it if you didn't use me as an example."

"Fine," said Draco, quickly, feeling that they were steering far from the path he wanted them to stay on. "Fine, you're right. I'm sorry."

"Okay," said the girl.

Draco waited a minute, his eyes falling briefly on his housemates at the table behind the girl. She noticed, turned to look at them, and then looked at him again.

"Aren't they gonna be furious that you're sitting here?" she asked.

"I don't care what they think," Draco said, and he was surprised to find that he meant it. He lowered his voice again. "Will you _please_ help me? I'm desperate. I...I don't want to lose my best friend."

"What makes you think you're gonna lose her?"

He sighed again. "Intuition."

"What?"

"It's...never mind." Draco paused again. "So will you help me?"

The girl sighed. "Look, I don't think it's very right for me to say anything..."

"I'm not gonna tell anyone, I promise," Draco said quickly.

But the girl shook her head. "It doesn't matter, it wouldn't feel right."

"So you won't help me then?"

"I didn't say that," she corrected him, and Draco looked at her again and _really_ listened this time. She looked around to make sure no one was listening before her eyes landed on his again. "Sometimes, a person—anyone really—can start to like someone else and not even understand why they do. There isn't an explanation for it, it just happens. I'm sure you've had that happen. Everyone does at one point or another."

"Okay that's not really helping me here," Draco started to say, but she interrupted him.

"I'm saying that it's hard enough for that person to deal with how they feel without having other people they know judging them…or even worse, without having the person that they like knowing about it."

"Well what's wrong with them knowing about it?" said Draco. "Or is it better to just hide your feelings for the rest of your life?"

"I never said for the rest of your life," she retaliated. "I said that sometimes, it's better not to say anything...especially if there's someone else..."

Draco thought for a minute. "Are we still talking about Hermione?"

The girl looked away from him quickly. "Look, just do yourself _and_ her a favour, and don't say anything about it to her. She will deal with her feelings on her own time and in her own way, and whether she decides to talk to you about them or not is _her_ decision only. Don't push her."

Draco folded his own arms and leaned back. "Wow."

"Wow what?" said the girl.

"Nothing, it's just that you're actually pretty smart."

The girl smiled. "And why does that surprise you?"

"Because your brother isn't," he said, feeling like it was a pretty obvious answer.

The girl grew serious suddenly, and worried too.

"Um," said Draco, feeling a little awkward, "Don't worry, you know. I'm not gonna tell anyone about this conversation if you won't."

The girl smiled again, picked up her book and stood up.

"It was nice talking to you," Draco told her.

She paused, and smiled again. "It was nice talking to you too."

And then, she left. Draco remained seated at the Gryffindor table, watching her leave the Great Hall, pause at the door next to Longbottom, and then head on to the Entrance Hall. Longbottom frowned once he saw where Draco was, and Draco didn't even bother getting up as Longbottom approached him.

"I'd ask if I could sit but technically it's my table," he said, taking the seat Ginny Weasley had occupied just a moment before.

"How you doing, Longbottom?" Draco asked, folding his arms on the table again.

"Not too bad," Longbottom answered. "And you know, you can start calling me Neville."

"No I can't," said Draco quickly. Longbottom made a strange face and Draco, feeling awkward, sighed. "But I guess I can try."

Longbottom smiled slightly. Then his face grew serious again and he turned his head to the front doors. "Okay I gotta ask..."

"I know you're gonna," said Draco. "And before you do, let me explain."

Longbottom listened intently.

"I took your advice," said Draco, simply.

"What advice?" said Longbottom.

Draco raised an eyebrow and mimicked the boy's voice. " _If there is something going on, it'll be something she'd have told one of her girlfriends, not me."_ Longbottom's face changed instantly. "Does that sound familiar?"

"Well... _yeah,_ but I mean I never expected you to take _my_ advice on something!" he cried.

"What can I say?" Draco shrugged. "It really spoke to me. Thought I'd give it a shot."

"And were you happy with the results?"

Draco paused. _Was he?_

"They could've been better, I suppose," he finally answered.

The boy before him nodded.

Draco's head turned to his side and several Gryffindors looked away from him quickly. He sighed again and looked back at Longbottom.

"Well I'll see you, Neville."

"Okay, see you later."

April was the month of rumours. Draco couldn't figure out if it was because of what was actually happening or maybe the freezing wet weather was making people bored. But whatever the reason, there they were...the rumours. And whatever he did, he couldn't run away from them.

Everywhere he went, someone somewhere was talking about Hermione Granger and Harry Potter...talking about how sorry they felt for Lavender Brown because she was being cheated on...talking about how he, Draco, must feel so awkward about this recent hookup. And this didn't improve things with Pansy either, who seemed a little edgy about the rumours. Regina was more okay with them, which at least made Draco feel better.

"Yeah, I mean, I get it," she kept saying. "It's just rumours—people get bored. It wouldn't be the first time."

"Thank you," Draco told her, and he meant it too.

It was ridiculous, really. And the more ridiculous it got, the more awkward it became for him to hang out with Hermione, to the point where they just made up excuses about why they couldn't meet up. For him, it was always Quidditch stuff, and for her it was always homework stuff. For now, they were both okay with lying to each other (and to themselves), but even Draco knew that eventually he'd have to confront the situation.

But confronting any situation wasn't fun, so as usual, Draco ignored it as much as possible and concentrated instead on Quidditch. It was Flint's last year as captain and he was supposed to decide on a successor by the end of May, so Draco tried to stay on his good side by not missing any more practices, even if he did feel sick or tired. He just flew in the other direction where he could hover somewhere in the air. After a while, Dumbledore announced that it wasn't safe to practice Quidditch outside anymore and that teams would have to wait until the weather improved. This didn't make Flint any happier.

Dumbledore was still acting very strange, appearing and disappearing from the Great Hall whenever he felt like it. He hardly showed up to meals and when he did he didn't make any announcements or anything. But Sirius was still not talking, so Draco assumed that whatever it was Dumbledore was up to, it wasn't his business and he should stay out of it. Somehow, he doubted Potter had taken up the same attitude. But then again, Draco was hardly as involved in the life and travels of Peter Pettigrew as Potter was, so he really was in no place to judge the boy for wanting to know more. Plus it had to suck to be lied to constantly.

Classes were going pretty well too. Defense Against the Dark Arts was still everybody's favourite, even if Sirius seemed a little distracted with every coming class. But he still gave the students fascinating projects to work on and taught them really cool stuff. Draco didn't want to disappoint him, and so even if their private lessons had stopped, he still didn't stop practicing the Patronus Charm. But sadly, it was nowhere near forming a recognizable shape. He guessed that meant that Sirius had been right—it's just too hard of a spell for a thirteen-year-old to master.

About two weeks into April, Draco was sitting at the breakfast table one morning, listening to another one of Blaise's dirty jokes that no one got, when suddenly a brown owl dropped a letter into his cereal bowl. The girls shrieked because it got milk all over them, and while Theo pulled out his wand and cleaned them up, Draco pulled his and fixed the letter so that it was in perfect condition again. Then, recognizing the writing on the front, he excused himself from the table and ran outside to read it.

It was a very chilly day out and he was only wearing his uniform shirt but he didn't care. This letter was too important to postpone reading just so he could go get a sweater.

He found a seat on the beach near the lake, where no one could bother him, and took a breath before ripping open the letter and having a read:

 _Draco,_

 _I suppose it's weird for you now to be getting a letter from me, but I felt that this needed to be said. I know we haven't talked in a long time and haven't seen each other in longer than that, but I wanted you to know that I'm still very proud to call you my son, especially now that you are helping the Parkinsons with this case that the Department for the Care and Control of Magical Creatures is currently working on. With you on their side, the miserable oaf and his miserable griff don't stand a chance. I know you will do me proud and win this case. And once you do, perhaps we'll get together and talk about what sort of future for you I've built in my agenda._

 _You'll understand someday soon._

 _-Your father_

Draco looked up from the letter and stared out at the lake. The waves brushed against the shore every twenty seconds or so, and some seagulls were flying above, to the tune of the bell tower which was now chiming students for class time. But Draco had no intention of going. In fact, he had no intention of ever getting up from the grass ever again.

* * *

"I'm sure you realise why I had to do this," Professor McGonagall concluded, setting down the scroll of parchment and quill before him and returning to her desk. "Skipping class is absolutely unacceptable and I can't give you any preferential treatment."

"I understand," Draco responded, taking the quill and dipping it in some ink.

"Your essay will have to outline the importance of students' presence in classes and how this could affect their futures," Professor McGonagall said. "No less than one thousand words, please."

Draco nodded his head at his sheet of paper and wrote his name on the top right corner. He couldn't even think straight, let alone spell his name properly. Noticing this, Professor McGonagall knocked on her desk three times to get his attention. He looked up at her.

"Is there something on your mind, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked.

He quickly shook his head at her and began writing.

Yes. There was definitely something on his mind. There was something _huge_ on his mind. But he couldn't say anything about it to anyone for as long as he should live. Because saying something would mean literally stepping out of the bubble he'd grown so comfortable living in. And he wasn't sure he was quite ready for that just yet.

Or ever.

"Where were you all day?! We were worried about you, mate!" Blaise cried once Draco finally arrived in the common room that evening. "You weren't off somewhere crying about Granger and Potter, were you?"

"Shut up, Blaise," said Theo, surprising everyone there. Theo had never talked to anyone like that before. But he only looked at Draco with concern. "Are you okay, Draco?"

Draco mumbled 'fine' and collapsed on the couch, feeling tired and numb.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Avery asked.

Draco shook his head. No, he didn't want to talk about it. In fact, he didn't want to think about it! He wanted to shut his mind off for the rest of his life and never have to worry about a thing. Just stay right there on that couch and never be bothered to get up again.

"Maybe a good night's sleep will make you feel better," Goyle suggested.

Blaise smacked him across the head and Crabbe let out a snort-like laugh. Draco shut his eyes and took another breath. He had never thought that even being at Hogwarts would make him not want to be him anymore. But there was a first time for everything, right?

He spent the next couple of days pretty much avoiding everyone and going about his own thing. But even this didn't last long, because soon, Snape was pulling him into his office for a little 'chat'. And when Snape saw the letter sticking out of Draco's back pocket, he didn't even hesitate to pull it out and rip it open. Draco didn't fight him that much but just sunk into a chair in his office and waited for him to be through reading it. When he was, Snape looked up at him with a pained expression such that Draco had never seen.

"This is why you've been working on this case all year," he concluded. "You don't want to actually destroy the oaf or his hippogriff and this isn't even about the girls. You want to make your father proud of you for once."

Draco said nothing but only watched Snape. He hadn't noticed it himself, but the more Snape went on about it, the more it made sense to him.

"You think that if you win this case for Ms. Parkinson, your father will be at your side for the rest of time," he went on, now taking a seat next to Draco. "But you are wrong, Draco."

Draco swallowed hard.

"I've known Lucius Malfoy a long time," Snape continued, "And I can promise you that this sudden interest that he's shown in you is temporary." He paused. "I won't fluff it up for you because I know you're not an idiot and you're not a child. I'm talking to you like an adult and I think you can handle it." Draco nodded slowly, and Snape gestured at the letter. "You see this? This _future_ that he's got in store for you? I'll tell you, it's not pretty. You won't like it." Draco nodded again. "It's a dark and dangerous path that he's lined up for you and it doesn't lead to happy things. But you get to choose whether you'll get on this path, so there's that."

"I hardly think I have any choice here at all," Draco mumbled, but Snape shook his head.

"You have more choices than you'll ever know. You just have to grow up a little more to really see that."

Draco shrugged, doubting this was true, but still wanting Snape to continue. Somehow, he felt comfortable when Snape talked to him like this. He felt safe with him, in his office, as if no one in the world could ever interfere or try to rip him away from there.

"I wish you'd come to me sooner with this," Snape said now, levitating the letter into the fireplace and letting it sink and burn there. Draco watched it too. It was better off there anyway. It'd been burning a hole in his pocket for nearly a week now, and he still hadn't been able to get rid of it. It was like a curse. Or maybe his father _had_ put a curse on it. Maybe his father was trying to brainwash him. Maybe he was going to use him in some kind of secret operation that had to do with Peter Pettigrew.

"Sev, do you know where Dumbledore was on Christmas Eve?" Draco said now.

Snape frowned at him. "I already told—"

"Please, Sev, talk to me like I'm an adult," Draco said.

Snape looked at him hard for a long time before he spoke again, this time in a quieter voice than usual.

"Dumbledore doesn't trust me enough to tell me where he was that night. I've already tried."

Draco was not prepared for _that_ answer, but at least he felt a huge weight lifted off his shoulder. He was now confident that Snape would never lie to him—Snape was the only person the planet that was completely honest with him no matter what. And Draco would hold onto that honesty for the rest of his existence.

Staying away from Pansy and Regina really made Draco feel better. On the other hand, they started to get mad at him—or at least Pansy did. But Draco found that he really didn't care anymore. The hippogriff trial was one less thing to care about. And as the day grew nearer and nearer, he saw less and less of Pansy, which made things a whole lot easier.

But Hermione on the other hand, was not that easy to avoid.

He was sitting in the common room one night when a second-year boy entered and walked right up to him, looking annoyed.

"Malfoy, it's that smart girl you're always hanging out with from Gryffindor. She's out in the hallway, waiting for you. She wouldn't let me in until I promised to get you. I don't know what she's doing there but..."

Draco didn't stick around to listen to the rest of this. He walked away from the boy and out of the common room to meet Hermione, who was sure enough standing there, leaning against one of the walls and waiting. As soon as she saw Draco, she gave him a big hug and then took his hand and led him from the dungeons.

"Where are we going?" he asked once they'd reached the Entrance Hall.

"To talk," she answered, leading him through the doors and out into the courtyard, her favourite place in the whole castle. "We haven't really talked in a long time and I wanna know what's going on with you."

 _"Me?!"_ he wanted to shout at her but restrained himself and took a seat next to her on the grass.

"I've just been busy, you know," he mumbled instead.

"Yeah me too," she said. "With exams coming up soon, Harry and I've started studying every night in the library. It's exhausting, really."

Draco only nodded.

"I suppose you've heard all the rumours about us," she began. "I assure you, no one's more mad about those than I am...well, maybe Lavender Brown is..."

Draco let out a laugh.

"But you know they're just rumours, right?"

"Yeah of course," he said. "You would never start liking anyone without first talking to me about it."

"I wouldn't?"

"Yeah, I mean we're best friends and I know you better than anyone else in the world," said Draco. "We both know that I'm the first person you'd go to about this. And same goes for you."

"Oh," said Hermione, sadly. "Oh okay so then that means there's no one that you currently like? Because if you did, I'd be the first person you'd go tell it to, right?"

"Right," said Draco. "And no, despite what my idiot friends are saying, there isn't anyone that I like."

"Right," said Hermione. "Yeah, me too."

"Cool."

"Cool."

There was silence.

"I, uh, got a letter from my father."

Hermione's eyes went round, and so did Draco's. He hadn't expected that he would say those words right now, and once they were out, there was no turning around.

 _"And?"_ Hermione urged.

Draco swallowed and looked away from her.

"It was just the usual, typical Slytherin-type stuff, you know," he mumbled.

"Well show it to me!"

"I don't have it anymore."

Hermione sighed. "Oh Draco, I'm so sorry. I know how he can be and I'm sure it was very difficult for you to read whatever was in that letter." Draco didn't answer. "I just don't get it though. I mean, you're his son. He's your father. Why be so bold and bitter?"

"Uh, have you met my mother?" Draco let out a laugh.

"That's not funny," Hermione whispered. "I just really wish that your parents weren't so prejudiced and cruel and—"

"Hey, hey, they're not _that_ prejudiced and cruel..."

"Yeah, but I mean they don't seem to care what happens to you or where you go or—"

"That doesn't exactly make them _cruel_ , does it now?"

"Well, I mean _no_ , not _exactly_ , but come on, don't you think it's just a little strange how they hate Dumbledore and the Potters and pretty much everyone at the ministry—"

"Not everyone..."

"—and _especially_ the Potters and the Weasleys and, well if they knew my family, I'm sure they'd hate them too..."

"HEY, everyone's got reasons for everything, nothing's ever done pointlessly."

"Whoa, why are you getting so defensive? I-I thought we were in agreement here."

"I'm not...I mean we are...I mean..."

"Draco," Hermione placed a hand on his and he shoved it away. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, I've gotta go."

He stood up and walked away from her. She was quick though to get on her feet and follow him, but Draco didn't stop to talk to her and ignored her calls for him. He just kept going until he reached the castle, then the Entrance Hall, and then headed down for the dungeons. Hermione had just turned the corner at the end corridor, now running, when Draco finally entered his common room and shut the door behind him. Nobody looked up when he entered so he kept his head down and tiptoed upstairs to his dormitory, where he closed the curtains around his bed and collapsed on it.

There was no use in telling her. She would never understand. After all, how could she, when it was something he himself couldn't understand?

As April slowly drew to an end, the hippogriff trial drew closer, making Pansy Parkinson more on-edge and annoyed. She was especially annoyed with Draco, now that he'd completely given up helping her and Regina plot ways to ruin a man's life just for the fun of it. Draco wasn't interested in their games anymore, and according to Sirius, that said a lot.

"It means that you're growing up and finally deciding for yourself what you want to do, who you want to be and where you'll end up," he told him.

He supposed that was true, but he didn't want to admit it. It was too embarrassing.

Blaise was really enjoying all the rumours flying lately and he really got a kick out of making sure that Draco heard all the updates. But when someone _else_ at the Slytherin table mentioned one morning that they'd spotted Harry Potter holding hands with Hermione Granger in some corridor, Draco lost his nerve and stormed out. He found Hermione somewhere outside and before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "Are you crushing on Potter?"

She looked at him with a hurt expression, as though he'd slapped her across the face, and said, very quietly, "I can't believe you of all people would believe that rubbish."

And that's when Draco realized how rubbish it really was.

"I'm sorry," he muttered stupidly, while slowly backing away from her. "I'm sorry. Bad day, you know?"

She slowly nodded her head in understanding, and watched him walk away. He made a mental note not to ever believe another rumour. People sucked.

The next time he spoke to Hermione was just after the hippogriff's trial occurred. He was hanging out with Blaise and Avery in the Entrance Hall on the stairs when Hermione burst in through the front doors, looking panicked and frantic.

"What happened?" Avery cried at once, looking strangely but genuinely concerned.

Draco gave him a look and he sat back down. Draco stood up and approached Hermione.

"What happened?" he said, cringing slightly as his thoughts still circulated what Avery had just done.

"They...they c-convicted h-h-him!" she cried.

"Oh no," said Avery, getting to his feet and joining Draco's side. "Damn, that really sucks, sorry to hear that."

Draco gave him another look.

"What?" said Avery.

"Since when do you care what happens to the beast?"

"I...well Parkinson sure has a big mouth—he shouldn't go down for it just 'cause she can't control herself."

Draco rolled his eyes and turned back to Hermione.

"Are you okay?"

She pulled away from him. "Yeah I'm...I need to go tell Harry and the others..."

She wiped her tears again and hurried up the marble staircase and out of sight.

Draco's eyes landed on Avery, who was still watching the place where Hermione had disappeared.

"Something on your mind there, Aves?" he said.

"Huh?" Avery's head turned to him. "Let's go get food."

Draco narrowed his eyes at him but followed him to the Great Hall. There, they were surprised to find Pansy Parkinson standing at the end of the Slytherin table, talking to a few of her girlfriends. She looked pretty pleased with herself, which was a rarity.

"Oy Parkinson!" Blaise called out to her. She turned her head to look at him. "Congratulations—you're a girl of many dangerous powers."

Pansy smiled before her eyes landed on Draco and she grew serious again.

"What can I say? You really pulled it off," Draco told her.

"No thanks to you," she said.

"Whatever," he responded.

He himself couldn't even believe just how much interest he'd lost in all this weeks ago. His entire first half of the year had been completely wasted...ever since the first day of school when the incident with the hippogriff had occurred. So many regrets...

The image of Hermione crying haunted him for the rest of the night, and when he finally saw her again, it was the next day, just outside the library. She and Potter had just finished another lesson and he'd already left. Draco had showed up just before Hermione had left too.

"How are you doing?" he asked her.

"Okay," she shrugged. "There's nothing that can be done now really...your friend _Pansy_ has won."

"She's not my friend," he told her, bitterly.

"Well she certainly looked like she was earlier this year."

"Yeah, that was _earlier_ this year."

Hermione sighed. "I'm sorry. I don't want to fight, it's not your fault. It's _hers._ "

"Hermione, why don't you just cut her some slack? She got what she wanted and there's nothing you can do about it anymore."

"Not entirely true," she said, now starting to walk and him following her.

"You're not going to appeal?"

"No, not appeal, but we will go to Dumbledore. Maybe he can do something about it."

"He can't," Draco said, as nicely as he possibly could. He didn't want to get her hopes up. "The decision was made by the minister himself."

"Uh yeah, I don't really need reminders of that," Hermione told him.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

They turned and walked along another corridor, passing only a few lurking students here and there.

"Listen," Draco said, suddenly stopping her and moving her to one of the pillars aside, "I know you probably think that she won because I helped her this year but I assure you, that's not true. It wasn't because of me. I stopped helping her weeks ago—months, really."

He'd half expected her to smile now, but the smile never came.

"I didn't think it was your fault," she answered instead. "I mean, I won't pretend like I wasn't mad at you for helping her at all, because _I was,_ but...I'm not mad anymore."

Draco only nodded. Hermione bit her lip.

"Why _did_ you help her though?"

Draco paused.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "It's just I've been wanting to ask you that for a while now."

"It's...it's complicated..." he answered.

"Complicated like...relationship complicated?"

"What—no! Complicated like real-life problems, not petty little teenage stuff."

Hermione let out a laugh and turned to leave. Then, she added, "By the way, you're a petty little teenager yourself, whether you like it or not."

Draco grinned slightly and watched her go, still feeling miserable on the inside.

The next time he talked to her was a couple of weeks into May. She was spending every second with Hagrid and Potter and his lot, so he didn't get the chance to otherwise. But they met up in the courtyard on a bright, warm and rainless day, and Draco couldn't resist the urge to ask.

"How's Hagrid doing?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him. "And since when do you care how he's doing?"

"Hey, I care, okay?" he snapped at her.

"Well you don't really show it that often, do you?"

"Will you just bloody tell me already how he's doing?"

Hermione sighed. "He's doing miserably!"

"H-he is?"

"Well what'd you expect? Buckbeak is his best friend and in just over a week, he's going to be his dead best friend!"

Hermione bit back tears again and looked away from him. Draco groaned silently. He got it, but did she have to be so damn emotional about it all the time? And about pretty much everything else?

"If you _really_ want to help," she began, "There _is_ one thing you can do." Draco was afraid to ask. "Hagrid can't appeal the court's decision, and by the looks of it, Dumbledore can't either...but what might change their minds is if Pansy Parkinson comes forward and says that she's not interested in having the hippogriff executed anymore!"

Draco laughed. "If I know Pansy, and I think I do, then there is no way that's going to happen."

"It is if you convince her!" Hermione argued.

"No way," said Draco. "She's not gonna listen to me."

"She will if you do it right!"

"And how do I do it right exactly?"

"By flattering her! Jeez, you're a Slytherin! Do I have to start teaching you how to be sneaky too?!"

"Hermione, will you calm down?" he cried. "Look, I'm not gonna flatter her just so you can get your way. I'm not gonna do that."

"You would if you _actually_ cared about what happened to that hippogriff."

"I actually, really, truly _don't,"_ Draco assured her. Her eyes went round. He sighed again. "Well it's true, I don't."

"Well then why—?"

"I just don't wanna see you sad, that's all!"

Hermione let out a small gasp and turned away from him. "It's too late for that."

Draco groaned. "Look, I don't know why you expect me to be some kind of hero, but—"

"GOD, nobody expects that from anyone!" she suddenly yelled. "You teenage boys are so obnoxious with your hero fantasies!"

"Oh _I'm_ the one with the fantasy, am I?"

"YEAH, YOU ARE!"

"Whoa, will you calm down?"

"No! I don't _want_ to calm down! I want _you_ to do the right thing!"

"WHY SHOULD I HAVE TO?! I'M A SLYTHERIN, REMEMBER?!"

Hermione was on her feet now, glaring down at him. "Just because you've done something once, doesn't mean you have to keep doing it. Just because you were labelled a Slytherin _once_ , by some _hat_ , doesn't mean you have to _be_ one for the rest of your life!"

She paused to take a breath, and then gave him a dark look. "It's time you decided who you want to be, Draco. Not your parents or your housemates or your teachers...it's time _you_ decided who _you_ want to be...and soon."

And with that, she left.

Draco glared after her, feeling pretty angry himself. Well why the hell did he have to decide such a big thing like that _right now?_ He was only bloody thirteen years old. He had the rest of his life to decide which side he wanted to be on. Where was there a rule saying that he had to decide _right now_? Just because Hermione had said so? No. That wasn't good enough for him. He'd decide on his own time when he was ready, thanks.

No one could make him.

When he got back to the common room, he found Pansy sitting with Regina, Blaise and Avery, in the middle of a very intense Wizard's Chess match. Draco walked right up to her, both hands clenched into fists and a hot ball of fire blazing in his chest.

"Whoa, what's the matter with you, Malfoy?" Pansy said once she'd noticed him standing over her, looking as furious as ever.

"You walked around in a cast for a bloody month, not even, and yet you spent your entire third year at Hogwarts going after revenge for something you've long since forgotten about," he said through gritted teeth.

Pansy jumped to her feet so she was levelled with him and tilted her head slightly to get a better look at him.

"Wow, she's really getting to you, isn't she?" she said.

"No one's getting to me," he answered. "Just stating the facts here."

"Well fact this," she said, now folding her arms. " _This,_ what we've done here, is the _Slytherin_ way. If you don't like it, maybe this isn't where you belong." She let out a cruel laugh. "I mean, what did you expect? Really? All sunshine and rainbows? Hah, that house is on the other side of the castle."

"You know what, Pansy, you can just fuck off already, okay?" Draco suddenly said.

Pansy's eyes went round, Regina gasped, and Blaise let out a howl of laughter. Mostly everyone in the common room fell silent, now watching the two go at each other.

"Excuse me?" Pansy said to him.

"You're excused," he replied, feeling strangely fearless. "You do everything everyone tells you to do and you don't care if it's completely pointless. Tell me, is _that_ the Slytherin way? Because somehow, I highly doubt Salazar Slytherin was anything like that." He took a step towards her and she unfolded her arms. "And you know what?" he added, a little more quietly now, "If you weren't such a colossal bitch, maybe you'd open your eyes wide enough to see that."

And with these his last words for the night, he left the Slytherin common room. And as soon as he was out, he was able to breathe.

* * *

Draco spent the day of the execution pacing up and down the Slytherin common room while Blaise and Avery watched him with worried looks on their faces.

"Dude, why is this so hard for you?" Avery kept asking, but Draco shushed him every time he spoke.

Blaise only kept repeating "Are you ready to talk now?" in between hits of the small baseball he kept throwing at the wall in front of him. This didn't help.

"OY, EARTH TO MALFOY!" Avery suddenly cried, making Draco stop to look at him. "What's going on, man?"

"I dunno," Draco admitted. His eyes fell on the clock above and he sighed. "But I guess I'll know once I see the minister."

The boys exchanged a look but followed Draco hurriedly out of the common room and through the dungeons until they finally turned up in the Entrance Hall. There, sure enough, the Minister of Magic was standing, along with Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall. For some strange reason, Draco had expected Sirius to turn up too, but he wasn't there.

Draco had just plucked up the courage and taken a few steps towards Dumbledore and the minister when the doors to the Entrance Hall burst open and in came rushing Potter, two Weasleys, Neville and Hermione, followed closely by Hagrid, who looked miserable as ever.

"Professor!" Potter cried, running up to Dumbledore. "Professor, please! You've got to do something! You can't let them do this to Hagrid!"

"Nice to meet you too, Harry," said the Minister, frowning down at him.

Draco bit back a laugh.

"Oh, Harry Potter, sir," Potter said, shaking the Minister's hand with an apologetic look on his face.

"A pleasure to meet you at last," said the Minister, brightly. Draco had no idea why he was so happy.

And standing next to him was a tall man in a black cloak with a huge, polished silver axe at his side. Draco swallowed nervously. This was wrong. He finally knew it.

"Professor," Neville was saying now, "And Minister of course, won't you _please_ reconsider?"

"For Hagrid's sake?" Weasley added, now joining the two boys at the front.

 _"Please?"_ said Hermione, desperately. "I've been with Hagrid and Buckbeak almost the entire year. I know him. He's a good hippogriff!"

Draco's eyes fell upon Hagrid and he had to admit that the giant looked too miserable to even know where he was standing anymore. He now pulled out a giant handkerchief that might as well be a table cloth, and blew his nose. Loudly.

"Children," said the Minister, looking exhausted but still pleased, "I can't do anything even if I wanted to! When a students' parents address concerns, I _have_ to take action. I need to respect the students' parents and their wishes!"

"But what if those wishes are profoundly malevolent?" Hermione blurted out.

Draco groaned. Didn't she understand that using big words like that and trying to sound like a smartass in front of the minister was only going to hurt her case?!"

The others were now pitching in too, with their own choice of adjectives to describe the really sucky situation. But Draco was still unable to offer anything. Avery was right…why _was_ this so hard for him?

And that's when he finally realised it. Helping Pansy Parkinson wasn't going to make his father any happier. Telling Hermione and the others to shove it wasn't going to make his mother nicer. And doing nothing wasn't going to make him cooler in front of his friends. So there really was only one option here.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the words that came out didn't belong to him.

"Excuse me, Minister," said a voice.

Everyone turned to look in Draco's direction, and he, sure that he hadn't actually spoken out loud, also turned. Pansy was standing just behind him, looking flustered, angry and annoyed.

"Yes, Ms. Parkinson?" said the Minister. "Was there something you wanted to say?"

Draco narrowed his eyes at her as she looked around at everyone standing there and then met his eyes.

"Are you actually gonna do it?" his eyes asked hers.

"Well I don't bloody appreciate you calling me a bitch, now do I?" hers answered back.

Draco smirked and then grew serious just as quickly. "You know it's the right thing to do."

"Yeah, yeah, just don't go calling me names again."

"If you don't give me a reason to, I won't."

Pansy turned to look at the minister.

"I want to revoke my charges," she said.

Draco smiled.

"W-what?" gasped the Minister. "Revoke your charges? Why, Ms. Parkinson, where is this coming from?"

Pansy looked once at Draco, then at Hagrid.

"Look, sir, I might have...overreacted a bit...and I don't think killing that beast is necessary anymore."

"But Ms. Parkinson, surely you—"

"Minister, I'm the victim here, right? Don't I get to have a say in what happens?"

"W-well, I..."

"I think you should hear what the young lady has to say, Minister," said Professor Dumbledore, his eyes on Draco for some strange reason. Draco looked away from him and watched Pansy closely, as did everyone else there.

"I don't want to see... _Buckbeak_ killed..." she said through gritted teeth. "Not today anyway," she added more quietly. Blaise sniggered.

"W-well," said the Minister, turning to look around at everyone. "I...I don't know what to say...I mean, this is highly unusual..."

"Yeah, well, I'm a teenage girl," said Pansy. "Teenage girls are supposed to be moody and unpredictable and change their minds like a thousand times, right?"

Draco suddenly hurried to her side and turned to look at the Minister.

"Ah, she's joking, sir," he said, holding Pansy's hand hard so that she'd know to stop talking. "But seriously, you should really consider letting the animal go. He's not hurting anyone now, is he?"

"Yeah, let him go!" said Blaise.

"Let him go," repeated Weaslebee.

"It's the right thing to do, sir," said Neville.

Hermione's eyes fell on Draco's and he swore he saw tears there. He only nodded at her and looked back at the Minister.

"I..." he said. "Dumbledore, I really don't appreciate being brought all this way just to find out that my time has been utterly wasted!"

"I assure you, Minister, that I didn't know anything of this," said Dumbledore, who now had a proud but mischievous look on his face. "Do you have any ideas as to what we should do?"

The Minister looked around again and then scoffed. "Well I don't know what you're going to do, but I'm going back to my office. Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Hagrid, children, good day to you."

"Please, Minister, allow me to escort you," said Dumbledore, and just like that, he, McGonagall, the Minister and the executioner were on their way.

As soon as they'd gone, the Gryffindors in the Entrance Hall broke into cheers and applause. Draco also felt pretty pleased with himself, and Avery didn't look too bummed out either, or maybe it was just him enjoying the view as Hermione hugged Ginny Weasley really hard and jumped on the spot with joy.

"You did the right thing," Draco told Pansy.

"Then why do I feel so shitty?" she said.

"Because you're a bitter person," Draco said, simply. Pansy opened her mouth to retaliate, but he added, "And that's why I'm glad you're my friend."

She let out a small smile instead, then rolled her eyes at him and walked away, followed closely by Regina and a strangely eager-looking Blaise.

When Draco turned around again, Hermione was standing just behind him, with Ginny at her side.

"How did you do it?" she breathed, her eyes sparkling with glee.

Draco shrugged. He really couldn't believe it himself—how Pansy had just changed her mind like that.

"Maybe it had something to do with him calling Pansy a bitch the other night," Avery told her.

Hermione's eyes went round. "What'd you do that for?!"

"I...it's a really long story," Draco said, giving Avery a look that sent him away. His eyes fell on Ginny and he gave her an acknowledging nod which she reciprocated before turning away from them and going to join where Neville was standing talking to Hagrid.

"What was that?" Hermione wondered, a curious but pleased look on her face.

"Nothin'," said Draco, simply. "Can I, uh, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Sure."

She followed him to that spot in the courtyard which she liked so much and they sat down together on the bench. The weather was very nice and warm, and the sun had already set, creating a nice and cool evening breeze. Some of the outdoor lanterns were lit, making the courtyard a pleasant place to sit.

"What'd you wanna talk about?" Hermione said.

Draco bit his lip before saying, "I owe you an explanation." Hermione waited. "You know that day I got mad about my parents..." She nodded, remembering the exact moment. Draco sighed. "There's a reason why they hate the Potters so much..."

"I know," she said, rolling her eyes. "It's this whole blood prejudice thing that goes way back, you already told me."

"But you don't know what you don't know," he said, shaking his head. "It's more complicated than that." Hermione looked at him now. "Years ago, when we were all just kids, there...there was an incident."

He paused there, not sure if he should continue but knowing that he couldn't go back now.

 _"Yeah...?"_ she said, prodding him on.

He sighed again.

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

 _"What are you doing here?!" said Lucius Malfoy through gritted teeth, his wand pointed at the man standing before him in his living room._

 _Narcissa was standing in the doorway with Draco just next to her, holding onto her knee._

 _"You know very well what I'm doing here," answered James Potter, his own wand pointed._

 _"Get out of my house, you blood-traitor," Lucius threatened._

 _"I'm afraid I can't do that," said James. "Not without the book."_

 _"I don't know what you're talking about—"_

 _"Oh yes you do," said James, his voice furious. "I know you have the notebook so why don't you just hand it over and make this easy on all of us?"_

 _"Dumbledore sent you here, didn't he?" Lucius said now, taking a step towards him._

 _"Lucius, just give it to him! It's not worth it!" Narcissa called out to him._

 _"Quiet!" Lucius yelled at her, his eyes on James again. "I will not give it to you."_

 _"Well then you leave me no choice," said James._

 _And just as he shot out a spell to disarm Lucius, Lucius shot a spell to make James lose consciousness. Their spells met in the middle of the living room and collided, instead hitting a vase which broke and shattered on the floor. Narcissa let out a scream and picked up Draco, pulling him to another room. She shut the door and placed a protecting charm over it so that none of the spells would get through. Draco gently placed his ear against it to try and listen, but all he heard was more things breaking as more spells shot here and there. Both men grunted and shouted more spells at each other._

 _"I NEED THAT NOTEBOOK, MALFOY!"_

 _"YOU NEED TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE IS WHAT YOU NEED TO DO!" Lucius shouted back._

 _"Oh lord, he's gonna get himself killed," Narcissa said out loud, mostly to herself. She paced the room a couple of times, never minding the sounds of crashing from the other room. Then, she hurried over to the fireplace and bent down. Draco walked over to his mum and watched her pick up the floorboard and move it aside. She dug her hand inside the hole and started to look around._

 _Hopping excitedly, Draco also reached his arm inside, but she smacked it away._

 _After several more seconds, she finally retrieved a dusty-looking old book that made Draco sneeze. Narcissa hit the book against her lap three times to get some of the dust off, and then hurried out of the room. Draco ran after her._

 _"STOP!" she shouted, getting in between the two men with Draco in her arms._

 _James stopped at once, but Lucius shot another spell, this time hitting the wall which broke several bricks all over the place. Narcissa let out another shout and shielded Draco from the clutter._

 _"TAKE IT AND GET THE FUCK OUT!" she shouted, thrusting the notebook at James._

 _James caught it, disarmed Lucius, fixed the wall and disapparated all in a matter of ten seconds. Just when Lucius finished coughing from the dust of the rubble, he noticed that James was gone._

 _"YOU FUCKING BITCH," Lucius said to Narcissa, his teeth gritted so hard that Draco was sure they'd fall off. "YOU REALIZE THAT WHEN THE DARK LORD COMES HE'LL KILL US ALL?!"_

 _"WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO GET IT INTO YOUR HEAD, LUCIUS?!" she shouted at him. "THE DARK LORD DOESN'T CARE ABOUT US! HE DOESN'T CARE WHAT HAPPENS TO US, HE'S JUST LEFT US THIS MESS TO CLEAN UP AFTER HIM! THAT NOTEBOOK WAS DANGEROUS AND YOU KNOW IT."_

 _"AND SOON HE'S GONNA KNOW THAT IT'S MISSING," Lucius argued. "I MEAN, DAMMIT WOMAN, DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT THAT NOTEBOOK WAS OUR INSURANCE POLICY? I WAS GONNA CASH IT IN IF YOU HADN'T BEEN SO FUCKING STU—"_

 _"DON'T YOU DARE SPIN THIS ON ME, LUCIUS MALFOY," Narcissa now threatened. "I AM THE ONLY ONE DOING ANYTHING FOR OUR SON AND YOU WILL_ NOT _SPIN THIS ON ME, YOU FUCKING COWARD."_

 _And she picked Draco up in her arms again and stormed out of the room, leaving Lucius on his knees, feeling desperate, panicked, and most of all scared—scared for what would happen tomorrow when James brought the notebook to Dumbledore and he realized what it was._

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

"I don't understand," said Hermione, who was desperate for Draco to look at her but he refused to, "Why have you never told me this before?"

"Because it was so long ago," he answered in a whisper. "I never thought it would matter and quite frankly it's my worst memory yet. I was only a year and a couple of months old. I had just started walking."

"I can't believe you remember all that," Hermione said, softly.

"I've tried to forget, believe me," he assured her. "But anyway, that's the day that our hatred for the Potters was born. That's the day my mother told me that they are our enemies, and I grew up with the memory of James Potter dueling and humiliating my father in his own damn house just for a silly little notebook which they ended up destroying afterwards anyway."

"How do you know they destroyed it?" Hermione said at once.

Draco sighed exhaustively. "I dunno, I heard my parents talking a couple of years later about the incident. It doesn't matter, really. The point is, that's why. And now you know."

Hermione thought for a minute, then straightened up. "Let me ask you something, Draco. Does it make any sense to you to be mad at someone for something that never had anything to do with you in the first place?"

"I'm not mad," Draco corrected her. "I'm just explaining why I've hated them this whole time."

"Well _Harry_ wasn't there, was he?" Hermione pointed out. "You shouldn't hate him just because of something that went down with his father and yours. It had nothing to do with either of you!"

"Okay, I know that _now,"_ Draco told her.

She put her arm around his shoulder and rested her head on it, sighing deeply.

"You boys are so stupid," she declared.

Draco smirked. "Everyone's got their fair share of skeletons, Hermione."

"Does Harry know about this incident?"

"I doubt it...your pal's parents are more decent than mine...they wouldn't remind him of a traumatizing incident like that."

"Maybe if he knew..."

"No, Hermione," Draco suddenly sat up to look at her, "You mustn't tell him. _Promise me_ you won't tell him."

"But then he'd understand—"

 _"Promise me, Hermione,"_ Draco repeated.

She sighed. "Okay. I promise."

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!" Ginny Weasley cried, running up to them now, breathless and panicked.

"What is it, Ginny?" Hermione said at once.

"H-harry!" Ginny gasped. "He's...he's gone!"

"Wait, what do you mean _he's gone?"_ Draco asked her, alarmed.

"N-Neville saw him reading a l-letter from Sirius and then he...he...he left to...to meet him..."

"Okay, so he's just gone to see his godfather!" said Hermione, simply. "Why are you so panicked?"

"Because his godfather is in the Entrance Hall and _he_ isn't," Draco answered for Ginny, his eyes on Sirius, who was looking outraged as he listened to what Neville was telling him.

Without a thought, Draco ran across the courtyard with Hermione and Ginny in tow.

"...how could this happen?" Sirius was saying as Draco reached him.

"He thought the letter was from _you!"_ Neville cried. "I saw some first-year delivering it to him but I...I think they were under the Imperius Curse, I don't know!"

"And you didn't recognize this person?"

"NO!"

Sirius' frown grew extensively.

"What's going on, what's happening?" Draco panted, looking from Sirius to Neville and back.

The dark look on Sirius' face made his heart stop. He'd never seen him looking so frightened before.

"Neville?" said Hermione, also scared.

Neville looked at Sirius, who swallowed before handing Draco a crumpled-looking piece of paper with slanted writing on it. Draco narrowed his eyes at it, with Hermione peeking over his shoulder.

 _Harry,_

 _I know you want answers and I am finally ready to give them to you. But not here, and not with anyone else around._

 _Meet me in the Forbidden Forest as soon as you can get away, and be sure to bring your father's invisibility cloak with you._

 _Sirius_

Draco looked up at Sirius.

"Peter Pettigrew impersonated me to get Harry alone in the Forbidden Forest..." he said, his voice breaking.

"...and Harry's on his way over there now," Neville concluded, to everyone's great horror.

* * *

 **I'm exhausted...I think I'll go take a nap now :/**

 **Oh and I know I haven't mentioned Luna much in the story or even specified which house she's in, but in this story, she's in Gryffindor. Just go with it, okay? XD**


	28. Year 3: Reunion

**AN : Hey guys! Th** **is is the second-last chapter of third year. Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer : Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks**

* * *

CHAPTER 28: YEAR 3—REUNION

* * *

 _Sirius_

* * *

Sirius ran as fast as his feet would take him, knowing perfectly well that he couldn't transform _and_ protect himself by wand. He didn't mind the chill of the early evening wind or the fact that the woods were getting darker and harder to see through. He raced through them, not caring about anything other than finding his godson still alive and well. And his heart was pounding so hard he knew it'd explode if he didn't get his hands on Peter Pettigrew. And soon.

"Sirius wait up!" Draco called after him for the millionth time since he'd entered the woods.

"Go back to the castle, Draco," Sirius ordered, but he did not stop to see if Draco had obeyed him. He continued pushing through the woods, his wand lit at the tip of his outstretched hand.

"No, I don't want to leave you!" Draco called after him.

"Draco, I don't have time for this!" Sirius called back, never stopping. "It's too dangerous for you to come along. Now go back!"

"But Sirius—"

"NOW!"

Sirius turned a corner and ran faster than before, his eyes on the footprints along the path that he was following. After a few minutes, he could no longer hear Draco following him and decided it was safe to slow down a little. His wand never lowering, he slowed to stop and looked around. The forest was completely dark and silent as death. There was not a creature in sight. No life at all.

Sirius lowered his wand and looked around again. Maybe he _should_ transform. It'd be easier and quicker to sniff out the rat, wherever he was. He pointed the lit wand to the ground but the footsteps were harder to see now. He'd finally reached a dead end.

Wondering but doubting that this was a trap, Sirius looked up at the sound of a twig snapping. His mind alert, he kept his wand pointed and expected to see Harry show up at any moment now and tell him that he was late to meet him or something. But Harry did not show up. Instead, a man moved into the clearing, walking as though slightly injured at the ankle. His outline was unfamiliar, but when he finally moved into the light of Sirius' wand, Sirius's eyes went round. His childhood friend, once young, chubby and short, with an aura of innocence and dumb luck, now stood before him, skinny and lifeless as ever. His hair was dirty and falling, and his face was all scarred up but still very recognisable.

"Peter Pettigrew," Sirius breathed, his fingers tightly gripping his wand.

"Sirius Black," said Wormtail, in a strangely calm and regular voice, as though greeting an old friend over breakfast at the Leaky Cauldron. "It's truly been long, hasn't it?"

"No, doesn't feel that long to me," said Sirius.

Wormtail let out a toothless smile. "Twelve years is a long time when you're in prison."

Sirius let his eyes wander just a little, so as to try and figure out if Harry was anywhere in the area. But the woods were seemingly deserted, with just him and Wormtail facing each other in the small clearing. Knowing perfectly well that Harry had his cloak with him, Sirius narrowed his eyes and tried to look for signs of unusual branch movement or twig snapping. Wormtail seemed to notice because he let out a squeal of a laugh which brought Sirius' attention back to him.

"What the fuck's so funny?" he snapped.

"You," said Wormtail, "You trying to make sense of this—you trying to find your precious little godson."

"What have you done to him?" Sirius said, now taking a threatening step forward.

"Careful now, Sirius," said Wormtail, taking a mocking step back, as though terrified out of his skin. "I've been in prison a long time with all the wrong people—I've learned many things."

"Yeah? Because to my knowledge, you always knew those things, you just never showed it."

Wormtail smiled again. "You remember."

"Oh I remember, alright," said Sirius, taking another step, his wand never lowering, "I remember it all. I remember all the times we beat up those worthless Slytherins for knocking down your books or hanging you upside down in trees. I remember every night that Remus tutored you in the library so that you wouldn't flunk out of school. I remember James teaching you how to style your hair so that you wouldn't look like such a dork—"

"Now, here's a funny little fact for you," Wormtail suddenly interrupted, "You think I forgot all of this but I haven't. It's you who has forgotten."

"And exactly what have I forgotten?"

"My sorting ceremony," Wormtail answered.

Sirius stared at him, his wand lowering slightly. "I haven't forgotten—I've been playing it over in my head thousands of times since your arrest—"

"Have you?"

"—and I still can't understand what potion that hat was on when it was placed on your bloody head."

Wormtail smiled. "The best kind."

Sirius raised his wand again.

"What do you want, Wormtail? Why did you come back? You already got out, so why come this close to the school and risk getting caught again?"

Wormtail frowned, glanced at a tree nearby, and then looked at Sirius again. "And what makes you think that I want something?"

"Because you would never do anything if there wasn't something in it for you," Sirius said through gritted teeth. Wormtail frowned again. "Even when we were already grown, I thought you were noble and selfless. But then again, you always were a slippery one, weren't you…"

"And I wonder how I got that way," Wormtail said now.

"Exactly what are you implying, Pettigrew?"

"That maybe, if you'd looked a little closer at the time, you would have seen the bigger picture," said Wormtail, now raising his arms as if to draw a big picture. "You would have seen the meaning behind it all...you would have seen the other side."

"What are you talking about?" said Sirius, keeping his wand directed at Wormtail's heart.

"The boy," said Wormtail, "I am here for the boy, and _you_ are going to hand him straight to me."

Sirius glared at him, not understanding how he could be so deranged so as to actually believe such a ridiculous thing. He stared at his childhood best friend, whose teeth were nonexistent, hair was grey and falling, and eyes sunken, as though they'd been pulled out of their sockets, twisted in several knots, and forced right back in. This couldn't have been the same person that he'd once known—that excited little boy who squealed of joy every time James showed another impressive Quidditch manoeuver. This couldn't be the kid who'd burst into tears because he'd failed his Charms exam and needed to retake it. This stranger that stood now before him had kidnapped that child and was never bringing him back. That was the only truth here tonight.

"Oh _I'm_ going to hand him to you, am I?" said Sirius now.

"Yes," said Wormtail. "And then, I am going to kill you."

Sirius stared at him, disbelieving, causing Wormtail to laugh.

"I'm sure you're wondering now how I got out," he now said.

"I'll tell ya, it has crossed my mind, yes," said Sirius, keeping very concentrated for he now noticed a wand poking out of one of Wormtail's pockets. Where on earth had he managed to procure one, when the entire nation was on the lookout for him?

"You remember our old friends, Avery, Dolohov and Lestrange?"

"They were never my friends, Wormtail," Sirius declared.

"They were approved to visit my cell one night for story time..."

"Who the fuck approved _that?"_ Sirius cried out.

Wormtail smiled his ugly smile again. "Why, the minister of course."

Sirius's jaw dropped.

"And so we got to talking," Wormtail continued, "And I realised many things about that night that I got arrested, Sirius...things that I hadn't thought of before."

"Why am I not surprised," said Sirius, quietly.

"If it weren't for Lucius Malfoy's reckless mistake, I wouldn't have been arrested that night and _you_ , Sirius, would be the one in prison all this time."

"You do realize that, with or without Malfoy, James and Remus still would've tracked you down, yes?" said Sirius.

Wormtail shook his head now. "It would've taken them much longer to find me and by then, I would have already been gone, hidden safely in the shadows."

Sirius frowned at him again. This definitely wasn't the person he once knew.

"So the way I saw it," he continued now, "Lucius Malfoy owed me."

"So what are you saying, he was the one who let you out?" said Sirius. "How did he even have the resources to pull off such an operation, what with the dementors guarding the bloody place? Last time I checked, Malfoy wasn't exactly a man of power."

"Power, no, but connections, yes," said Wormtail, cleverly.

"Humour me, Wormtail, what's the bloody difference?"

Wormtail only smiled again. "Anyway, I didn't say he let me out. I said, he owed me."

"So what happened then?" said Sirius, taking another step forward and looking around again. Where the bloody hell was Harry?

Wormtail frowned again, his eyes on the ground in front of him. "When I was first brought to Azkaban, I was terrified out of my own skin. The whole place was without light. The dementors were everywhere. Many of the prisoners were shrieking horror because they'd already gone mad—"

"I remember, Wormtail, I spent a couple of nights there when I was charged with _your_ crimes."

There was a pause. "As soon as I was left alone in my cell, I tried my best to transform and get out, but the dementors had already impacted me beyond my control. I...I couldn't do it, I...I'd lost the feel of it." He sucked in a bit of air and let his eyes roll back. "From then on I knew I'd spend the rest of my life there." He opened his eyes again and found Sirius standing not too far from him, wand still pointed, though slightly lower now. "And I realized something important—I had nothing else left to lose."

"Get to the point, Wormtail, I haven't got all night," said Sirius through gritted teeth.

Wormtail frowned again. "Please, Sirius, I've waited a long time to tell this story to you. Do not rush me!"

Sirius stared at him. For a second there, he'd sounded a lot like the Wormtail that he was all those years ago.

"As I was saying," he continued, "I was left all alone with nothing but my worst memories which the dementors never failed to resurface. Most nights, I cried myself to near death. But still...life clung to me like a bloody disease, refusing to let go and set me free."

"Oh poor Wormy," said Sirius.

Wormtail smiled once again but closed his eyes. "I never had any visitors...never, not once in all those years I spent in that cell...until 14 months ago..." Sirius raised his eyebrows, now fully alert. "A man called Quirrell, whom I'd never met before, specifically requested to meet _me_ , out of all the prisoners there. Hah, well you can imagine my surprise. But I listened to what he said...and after our little meeting...I regained all my hope for the future."

"What did he tell you?" said Sirius.

Wormtail opened his eyes. "He convinced me that he had managed to find the Dark Lord...what is left of him..."

Sirius glared at Wormtail, all the while searching his mind for anything familiar about the name Quirrell. But the stranger was just that—a stranger.

"And once I knew he was still out there, I began practicing my animagus form until I was able to perfect it again after all these years. And that, my friend, was my ticket out of there."

"But what I don't understand..." said Sirius, his eyebrows furrowed, "...is why Quirrell would come find _you_?"

"The Dark Lord told him to."

"But why _you?_ As I recall, you weren't exactly Voldemort's favourite..." Sirius's voice trailed off slightly because he caught Wormtail wincing. "What, are you afraid to hear your own master's name being said out loud, _Wormtail_?"

"Never mind that," said Wormtail, now smiling his toothless smile once again, "I came here tonight, Sirius, because I have a job to do. I have to deliver the boy to the Dark Lord and you are just in time to hand him over."

"Why?" said Sirius, now boldly. "What does Voldemort want with Harry?"

Wormtail did not answer.

"Why must _you_ be the one to bring him? Why not have Quirrell do it?"

"You know, it's funny, that..." said Wormtail. "I think that, if James and Lily died that night like they were supposed to, and the boy grew up all these years without them, perhaps Quirrell would be the one to deliver the boy and I would still be hiding...as a rat...whereas _you_...would be in Azkaban. Funny how that turned out."

"Not really," said Sirius, sarcastically. "The way I see it, you have but one option here. Hand yourself over. Because I swear to the gods, if anything happens to that boy, James, Remus and I will come after you ourselves...and you can bet your arse it won't be pretty."

"No!"

Wormtail's hand flew to the wand sticking out of his pocket and in an instant, he was pointing it into the shadowy woods, while Sirius did the same on his side. The pair of them stood, alert and cautious, waiting for whoever was intruding on their conversation to show themselves. But Sirius already had a pretty good idea of who it might be. Still, his heart sunk when he was proven right and the figure appeared from the shadows. He'd expected more of him.

"What are you doing here, Draco?" he said through gritted teeth, taking a step forward but keeping Wormtail under his radar.

"You can't kill him Sirius," Draco said, his own wand pointed. "He's right."

"Draco you shouldn't be here," Sirius declared, but Draco wasn't listening. And after he took a few more steps into the clearing, Sirius noticed that he wasn't alone.

Standing not far from him were Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, and Neville, all with pointed wands.

"You should go back," said Sirius. _"All of you, now!"_

"We're not going back, Sirius," said Draco. "And you're not gonna kill him."

"Draco—"

"Sirius if you do this, you're gonna just wind up in Azkaban and I'm not gonna lose you!" cried Draco. "Not after you _just_ showed up in my life after all these years. I'm not gonna go through that with you!"

"Draco, I—"

"You're not gonna leave me, Sirius. I'm not gonna let you."

Sirius opened his mouth to retaliate but nothing came out. He felt somehow struck by these words. He'd no idea that his presence had had that great of an effect on young Draco. If he'd known, perhaps he would've gotten in touch with him a lot sooner. Guilt ridden, he nodded his head slowly.

"How... _touching_ ," said Wormtail, who was now applauding.

Sirius turned his head to glare at him.

 _"Shut up,"_ he said, very slowly.

"But as much as I'd love to stay for this little family reunion here," said Wormtail, now growing unrecognizably serious, "I have a job to do." With that, he turned his wand to point in Sirius's direction. "The boy, Sirius."

"You're gonna have to get through me to get to him," Sirius declared at once, his own wand pointed in Wormtail's face.

"And me," cried Ginny Weasley, now throwing herself into the clearing with a shaking wand in her outstretched hand.

Sirius bit back a groan. These kids had no idea what they were getting themselves into.

"Me too," Neville said, also stepping forward.

"How brave of you Sirius, to bring a little army to help you defend yourself against me," Wormtail now mocked.

Sirius gritted his teeth together so as to stop himself from simply lunging at the disgusting man and ripping him apart.

"We are Harry's and Sirius's friends," Hermione Granger declared, now stepping forward to join where Draco was standing. "And we are here to serve our duty."

Wormtail smiled vaguely at her before turning to look at Sirius again. "So which of these children will you be sacrificing for your safety today...Padfoot?"

Hearing his childhood nickname being called by his traitor of an ex-best friend snapped a nerve inside Sirius, so deep, that before he even knew what was happening, his fingers found Wormtail's neck and the pair of them were now struggling on the ground. Sirius could hear the children's yells but from a distance away—he was too focused on strangling Wormtail for all that he was worth. As far as he was concerned, it was _his_ duty to make sure that this worthless piece of scum shall never walk again. Every useless minute that he'd spent drinking about this, wondering why Wormtail didn't just come to him if he was in trouble, _how_ he could possibly do this to his best friends...every single night that James and Remus tried to calm him down and assured him that _Wormtail_ had made this decision and that _he_ was to blame for everything, not Sirius...every single nightmare about what Wormtail must be undergoing in Azkaban each day with those foul dementors. It was true, Sirius had only been there for a few nights, but Wormtail had been there for _twelve years._ It wasn't uncommon knowledge that most prisoners went mad within their first days. But right now, right in this moment, none of this mattered to Sirius—not his childhood, not all the great times, not all the lies, not the children's screams, and not even Harry unveiling himself at the edge of the clearing and casting a few charms that missed Wormtail by inches and hit nearby trees instead, causing branches to fall over.

Wormtail, like Sirius, seemed to have forgotten all about wands because he too, was trying to strangle Sirius.

Sirius assumed the other children had started firing curses too because several different spells of various strengths were now firing all over the clearing. Clearly the children had poor aim as Sirius and Wormtail were still struggling on the ground and yelling at each other. Sirius could tell that Wormtail wasn't going to last much longer—he was poorly dressed, cold and underfed. He had twelve years of prison in him while Sirius had nearly a decade of Quidditch training in _him._ Finally, he managed to get on top and without thinking, without worrying, and without even carrying, he brought both his hands around Wormtail's neck and began to squeeze.

"NO!" the two girls in the clearing now yelled, both of them in hysterical tears. "STOP IT!"

Sirius tuned out all the yelling and focused only on Wormtail's face and how, the harder he squeezed, the more it became purple. Wormtail's hateful eyes were on him as he began to choke. Sirius could see his veins popping out now and his eyes becoming red too, but that only made him choke him harder. Soon, he felt two pairs of arms at his back, pulling him hard. He fought against their weakness and continued to pursue Wormtail, who was now a dangerous purple colour. Then another blue spark flew past him and hit Wormtail, causing him to fly out of Sirius's grip and several feet over to the other side of the clearing. Sirius fell back, gasping from the strength of the spell. He turned around to see Neville standing behind him, wand outstretched, shock splattered on his face. He turned back to Wormtail, who was gasping but slowly turning back to his colour. One look at their two wands lying on the ground, and in an instant, the sound of Sirius's paws faded to silence as he pounded across the grounds, after Pettigrew.

Back on all four, Sirius was able to move freely and quickly through the forest, his animal senses enabling him to find the filthy rat quicker. They were headed for the hill leading down to the lake below. Sirius forgot all about the kids back at the clearing and focused on the rat and the rat only. He felt more comfortable as a dog and knew that it was only a matter of time before he found him and ripped him to pieces. But the rat was smart for once. It ran in zigzag, making the dog keep having to change course and thus lose energy.

They'd finally reached the lake and the rat, realizing its inability to swim, transformed again and the man was now running through the water over to the other side. Sirius transformed too and ran after him. He let out a laugh at the sight of Wormtail falling over in the water and gasping. He was tired from running and they both knew it. Sirius lunged himself on top of him and grabbed him by the collar of his torn shirt. He started to pull him out of the water so that he could finish him off on the ground, when a fresher idea suddenly hit him and without thinking about it, he threw the man into the water and held him there. Wormtail squirmed and pushed and shoved. The water above him bubbled furiously as Sirius held him there, drowning him as quickly as he could.

"SIIIIIIRIIIIIIIIUUUUUSSSSSSSSSSSSS!" came Draco's frantic yell.

Sirius did not need to turn his head to see that the children had all joined them at the lake too. Standing back at shore, they screamed and shouted their protests. Only Draco seemed to be out of control. He tried with all his might to run into the water but the others were holding him back.

"SIRIUS, DON'T!" he kept repeating, his voice echoing across the lake. "SIRIUS, PLEEEEASSE!"

Wormtail raised his head out of the water, gasping madly, but Sirius only threw him back inside.

"SIRIUS!" Draco yelled. "SIRIUS, IF YOU KILL HIM, I'LL LOSE YOU FOREVER, PLEASE!"

"SIRIUS, DON'T!" Harry yelled now too.

Wormtail's flying arms trying to grab Sirius too but he ducked and kept his hold on him. Not much longer now and he'd be dead…

"DON'T LEAVE ME AGAIN!" Draco finally yelled.

The words hit Sirius like cannonball. He froze mid drowning Wormtail, and suddenly, he realized just what was happening and he no longer knew what to do with himself. He slowly turned his head to look in the children's direction. Draco too, froze, along with everyone else. They stared at him with frightened looks on their faces, as though they didn't know what to next expect from him. And that's when it hit Sirius. If he finished Wormtail now, right here, tonight, he'd ruin any chance he ever had at making up the last thirteen years to Draco. He'd ruin his chances of being the best godfather he could be to Harry.

Wormtail squirmed again underneath the water and Sirius suddenly pulled him out and dropped him onto the ground nearby. Wormtail gasped into it for several long minutes, while Sirius, eyes still bulging red, moved to sit next to him and stared down at his murderous hands, which in his eyes, were now filled with Wormtail's blood. It was a long time before Wormtail finally stopped moaning on the ground and resorted to simply breathing deep, long breaths while lying on his back. Sirius remained sitting next to him, and the children across the lake remained standing, though one or two of them seemed to be saying something to the others which Sirius couldn't hear from this side of the lake. He only kept looking down at his hands and wishing that the blood would come off and that he'd be able to look at them one day and see clean skin.

Beside him, Wormtail started shivering again and the sounds he was making were the only sounds in the clearing at that point. Sirius truly started contemplating hexing Wormtail so that he'd shut the hell up, when he himself began shivering slightly. The night had suddenly taken a very cold turn, so cold, that the lake in front began to slowly freeze over completely, right before his very eyes. Sirius stared at it, not understanding what was happening. But when he heard the girls' screams from the other side of the lake, he turned his head up to the sky and it all finally clicked together.

The dementors...


End file.
